Hazel Eyes, Green Tears
by Koshary
Summary: CH10 UP. James never died, after all. Part of Harry's wildest dreams has come true, but James has been alone for so long. Would he be able to cope with his new life and would his old friends accept his return?
1. The Devestating Attack

A/N: Okay, all of you readers! I'll be curt : I don't have anything to say to you except that this is my try at a 'James was never really dead!' fanfic. Please bear with me as my updates can be really slow because of upcoming exams and correct me if my grammer was incorrect (I'm not English.) and most importantly: REVIIEEWW! It helps to know people actually read what you bust your butt writing!

Disclaimer: If you ask me what that is, I might strangle you through the computer. Just read!

Here's chapter one coming right up!

Chapter 1: _The Devastating Attack_

**Number 14, Godric's Hollow**

James Potter playfully nibbled on his baby Harry's left ear, rousing the sweet, innocent giggle he so loved to hear. The 1 year old baby turned his head around to plant a small, wet kiss on his Daddy's chin, an action Lily Potter, his Mummy, was proud to teach him at such an early age.

Right then, she was sitting on the sofa at the far end of the living room next to the small library, going through books and notebooks to be labeled and stacked neatly away, being the tidy, _tidy_ person she was.

James roused another baby laugh from Harry, by imitating monster noises, and attacking him - with kisses. Harry's face reddened with laughter and he started to gasp.

"James! Easy on him! He'll get awful hiccups!" Lily said.

Sure enough, a hiccup escaped Harry's throat as soon as James stopped.

"Happy, now?" Lily said, rolling her eyes and standing up to take Harry away for a cup of water.

"Come on, baby..." she said softly as she pushed the cup gently to his lips and he drank. James had followed into the kitchen, in hopes of grabbing Harry for a little more before his bedtime - which had passed about 10 minutes ago.

"_Harry_." James sang from behind the baby.

"Daddy!" Harry squealed happily and turned around to stretch his arms for Daddy to carry him.

"Oh, no Harry." Lily took a step back, and Harry cooed at the suddenly huge distance between him and James "You have to go nap-nap now, and Daddy _knows_ it."

James put on the pleading face he knew Lily's heart melted in front of "But..but Lils, he's a junior Marauder! Marauders don't have a bedtime! They do _whatever_ they want, _whenever_ they want. Right, Pronglet?" He asked, smiling cheekily at Lily.

"Mawuda!" Harry agreed enthusiastically.

"Not in this house, they don't." Lily said in a Don't-Mess-With-The-Queen tone that didn't give the required effect as she couldn't hide her dazzling, white-toothed smile.

"Come on, James; You can have him all day tomorrow as soon as he wakes up. After all, you haven't been doing anything except that ever since we moved in here...and before that." she finished with an exasperated look, then kissed Harry's head, unable to resist the baby scent, and went on "Maybe when he's asleep, you'll remember that you have a wife living with you in the very same house."

James laughed at her remark and kissed her forehead as she went by him out of the kitchen.

Harry, who seemed to know that there's no escaping the nap-nap, he held out his tiny arms again and said "Goonai, Dada."

Lily allowed James to take Harry from her arms and kiss his nose "Goodnight, baby..."

A loud cracking sound filled the air around them and they froze, even Harry. Some of the lights in the house started blinking on and off and an icy breeze brushed past them, creeping into their very bones. Harry moaned. A faint sound of movement and wind through robes outside the door could be barely heard.

"James!-" Lily whispered, horrified, and grabbed his arm.

"Stay right here!" James ordered and strode in quiet, graceful steps towards the window next to the front door. With trembling fingers, he opened the orange curtains an inch apart and peered through - to stare right into cold, blood-red snake eyes smiling back at him in a way that made his blood run cold.

James gasped and staggered away from the window as if it had scorched him, clutching Harry tightly to his chest. Lily had then turned as pale as a sheet, and her brilliant emerald eyes were twice their size with fear. James ran over to her, thrust Harry into her arms and ran back to face the door, pulling his wand out and shouted: "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go ! Run! I'll hold him off-"

He cast a locking spell on the door, but the person outside uttered a cruel, high-pitched laugh and removed the hex, only for James to replace it again :" Go NOW!"

"James, don't be crazy! You _can't_ face him alone! I'll help y-"

"NO! Go now! Save yourself - save Harry!" he shouted at her, panicking "Put him in the crib and get to Dumbledore! _Go_!"

Her heard her heavy, frightened breaths cease away as she scrambled out of the living room and ran up the stairs. Just as she disappeared from sight, the front door of the house was blasted off its hinges. James dodged it as it went crashing into the wall and turned around to look at the most hideous creature he could ever imagine. A tall, thin man in pitch-black robes with a hood stood facing him. His red, red eyes shone out eerily through the blackness of beneath his hood and his protruding, snake-like nostrils were dilating and shrinking rapidly with excitement, his lipless mouth curled up into a triumphant smile stripped off any mercy. This was the way everyone saw Lord Voldemort right before they said 'Goodnight, World.'

Voldemort took one look at James holding up his wand at the ready and laughed in an ugly, high-pitched voice :"Why, James Potter, is that how you treat a guest?"

"What the _hell_ do you want from us?" James shouted, shaking with anger.

"Oh, _come_ now James. I know you are much smarter than that." Voldemort replied silkily, twirling his wand once in his long, spider-like fingers "Well, you're not really, no. If you were intelligent enough, you would not act so foolishly and deliver yourself by your own hands to your own death, denying me your son like that."

"I'll _never_ give you my son!" James hissed, blood pounding in his ears "_Flamora_!"

A vicious blast of bluish-white fire exploded from James's wand and tore towards Voldemort "_Splotispia_!" Voldemort said, and the flaming stream was extinguished by an opposing blast of water.

"_Tortapiesez!"_ James roared, and flashes of white light sped across Voldemort's chest and body rapidly like a fast, razor-sharp sword.

Voldemort's eyes widened at the speed of his opponent, and he let out an small, involuntary gasp of pain as the curse slashed his chest, but in a second, his eyes were deadly and burning in his white, thin face and his lips were pulled back again into that chilling smile. He raised his wand and said:"_Banishio!"_

That sent James flying across the room, crashing into half the furniture on the way and slammed hard into the wall, his wand flying out of his hand. He slid down to the floor, dazed and disoriented from the nasty colloidal of his head with the concrete wall. Voldemort stepped up to him and yanked him back up on his feet by the collar of his robes. Before James could do anything, he was being paralyzed by a hex. He looked into the deadly, red eyes and knew it was time he said his last prayers.

_Oh, please Lily..be gone with Harry..Get away..get away.._

"Do you think it is such a clever plan trying to fight me while your precious Mudblood wife and the brat got away?" Voldemort whispered, poking James in the chest tauntingly with his wand "Well, I hate to ruin your dear wish for you , boy, but they are not going anywhere. That Portkey you are keeping has been brought disfunctioned to you, and I have reversed all the wards surrounding your house before I entered, so it delights me to tell you that your wife shall not have enough time to find a way across them before I come for her." Voldemort laughed - a delighted, victorious laugh "Trapped like three _rats_ in the sewers, aren't you?"

The hateful look on James's face cracked to be replaced by hardly-hidden horror and confusion.

_Peter?_

"What did y-"

Voldemort's cold hand came up to James's throat and squeezed slightly :"I shall give you a very generous chance, boy. Something I hardly do with my _servants_, let alone those who oppose me. Give me your boy, and I just might spare your Mudblood darling, and give you the opportunity -again- to join me and be one of my most respected followers. You'll have everything you wish for and may even gain immortality if you please me enough..."

_Never...never my son! Over my dead body!_

James spat on him, and Voldemort grunted, releasing his throat to wipe his face. The Paralyzing hex effects were almost gone, and James let go of blast of wandless magic that sent Voldemort flying a few feet backwards and landing in a bundle of tangled robes. James ran over and grabbed his wand from where it lay on the floor only to hear Voldemort hiss the easiest spell_:"Expelliarmus!"_

James's wand flew out of his hand and landed in Voldemort's, who tossed it aside:"_Immobioulus_!"

To his horror, James found himself rooted firmly to the ground. His whole body felt _too_ heavy to move. The Dark Lord stalked towards him and stood mere inches away from his face :"Yes..it is one of your many gifts that would make you such a _splendid_ Death Eater, Potter. Powerful wandless magic along with all your other talents and agility. It is almost a shame to kill you..so I have a _much_ better idea." His wand tip was now pointed at James's heart and a sickly, twisted grin formed fully on his lipless mouth:"As a young man - almost as young as you - I traveled all over the world to learn everything I could about magic.. its origins.. its causes.. everything. I met the strangest people, and saw the most unexpected of everything, but there was one spell that particularly caught my attention ; very rare, and you'll never find it in one of those books you so readily read. You want to know what it does?"

James didn't answer. His heart clenched at the low, frantic footsteps and gasped breaths he could hear sounding upstairs. Lily and Harry were still _here_. They were trapped.

"It removes your mind and soul from your body," Voldemort continued, looking quite excited "and sends your body into a sort of -let us say- frozen state. No one would ever doubt you being dead... you will look totally lifeless to even the most brilliant of healers and naturally, no one will expect that your soul is actually...still around. Does not sound fun, does it, Potter? Personally, I have never tried it before, but I see now as a pleasant opportunity..."his sickening smile widened and he took a step back from James to perform the curse. James frantically tried to move - to attack - but his magic for some reason wouldn't cooperate.

_Let someone come! Let someone come save Lily and Harry! Oh, God let them get away!_

"Let us see how well you think of my offer again when you see all your precious family and friends as corpses when I bring you back..." he hissed, raised his wand and thundered the curse.

James thought he heard himself scream. The pain was unbearable - worse than Cruciatus - worse than anything he had ever experienced. His brain was exploding, and his thoughts and memories were all clashing meaninglessly before his eyes. His very soul was in anguish. And suddenly, the pain subsided, and a light, floaty sensation overtook him. He was being sucked into a dark, endless hole, away from everything.

He'd failed. He'd tried to stop Voldemort from getting to his baby, and failed. He'd promised Harry he'd protect him, and failed. Through those repeated thoughts and before he was completely torn away from the world he was just in, he thought he heard a woman scream his name.

A/N: Finally! It took me hours to write this chapter and make it come out the way I want it. So..WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? Review and tell me what you think, please. There! I said please! Now you've got no excuse not to.

Okay, another thing I have to say: I still don't know when I'm going to update. I started chapter 2 but as I said earlier, I'm really busy, so I suggest you don't come back here for two or three weeks. After that, you might come and find it. Well, gotta go! Byes!

Miss Zest


	2. The Man Who Was Never Really Gone

Sorry I took so long! My computer wouldnt connect to the internet, so you know the rest..

Thank YOU all for the reviews!THANK YOU! They really make me feel that all my work is worthwhile, having someone actually reading them.

Here's chapter 2!

Chapter 2: _The Man Who Was Never Really Gone_

**Location Unknown**

Death is _surely_ better than this.

For how long James had been here, he had no idea. He'd been trapped in this hell of a prison for what felt like centuries at times, and mere hours at others. It seemed - to what felt like his innersight - that he was locked up in a small, black room. He had no senses; no hearing, no eyesight, no touch. After all, he had no body. The only thing he had was his thoughts, his emotions and his memories. He'd pass by the time slowly through relieving them and trying to relive them, careful not to finish too much in a short amount of time.

He constantly prayed that Lily and Harry would be rescued. He tried to imagine baby Harry growing up, being raised and adored by Lily, loved and protected by Sirius...

What would he look like?

Would he be smart?

Would he be good at Quidditch?

And most importantly - would he miss his father? Would he know how much he _adored_ him?

Horrible, dark thoughts would come snaking through those pleasant ones. Images of Voldemort murdering his wife and child - Death Eaters torturing his best friend to death - Remus Lupin actually turning out to be a spy..

When it all became too much, he'd escape to the earlier memories - the more innocent, pure ones; his parents...his school days with his best of friends - with Sirius - his best friend in the whole universe...Lily and his baby..

_He remembered trying to resist Voldemort's curse as hard as he could, but he was torn away from his body at frightening speed and with blinding pain without being able to do anything to fight back. He also remembered, that after what seemed like minutes from his arrival to this horrid nothingness, he felt pain again - not as unbearable as the first - but still reached into the deepest part of his mind and soul, and felt himself sink deeper and deeper away from the surface._

Many times he'd drown in grief and fear when he keeps rethinking of what horrors could have befallen all his beloved ones, but the most frightening thoughts were of Peter. He couldn't imagine his shy, dependant little friend give away his location on purpose. He must have gone through unbearable torture and pain to give them away like that...him and Lily and Harry..

_Oh, Harry._ His thoughts and emotions revolving around his beautiful little boy refused to twist towards imagining what Voldemort could have possibly done to him if he'd gotten his cold hands on him. How could someone have the willpower to murder something so innocent and pure? This very same something that James had once thought - as an early teenager - would never take hold of his senses and grasp his emotions and affection so powerfully.

There were times when he was sure that Harry had gained the greater portion of his love, exceeded his love for Lily, even. Funny how a tiny creature could crumple his 'I'm a Marauder so may the Devil care!' attitude to the ground, and he'd be flying with joy because of it.

While his thoughts and memories went on and on, despite the great emotional stress it loaded on him, there came a time when his soul felt like it was rising up - very slowly - towards the surface. His spirits would rise, and then crumple back down when he remembers why Voldemort would bring him back - to gloat over the murders of his family and friends - and force him to join his side.

Never. Never would he do a thing like that. If Voldemort had gotten to the last person he had in the world, he would never stab them all in the back and join their murderer who had ended their lives so simply and coldly in the first place.

**The Riddle House**

Harry Potter had fleeted from between his very fingers. _Again_. If that Mudblood-loving fool Dumbledore had been just _two_ seconds late, the boy would have been dead, and he - Lord Voldemort - would have finally won victory over his 'match'.

He'd lost the prophecy as well - the only known copy of it in the whole wizarding world. He'd been told by Nott that it was smashed to bits by the idiot Longbottom boy, and all his plannings and magic efforts to lure Potter into the Department of Mysteries and into his hands went up in gas.

_Well,_ the Dark Lord thought with sadistic pleasure,_ at least it is the boy who will be suffering mental and emotional problems._

Bellatrix Lestrange had - as soon as they retreated back to this hideout - stutteringly filled him in with all what had happened in the Department, and how she'd supposedly killed the boy's godfather - Sirius Black - by pushing him down that ancient archway. She said the boy had gone hysterical, and started screaming and chasing her out of the Death Chamber and up to the Atrium where he - Voldemort - had appeared..

_"And how do you know that the archway is a means of death, Bella?"_

_"Master - I -" she started, her voice cracking with horrified tears "Well - I - I thought it would kill, otherwise why would it be in The 'Death Chamber'?"_

_"Crucio!" he hissed, and Bellatrix crashed to the floor, screaming and twitching and sobbing all at once: "Do you honestly think – Bella – that I would miss on such a trivial fact?"_

_"M - My - M'Lord I -" she screamed as another wave of pain washed over her. Voldemort lifted his wand, and Bellatrix stopped twitching, but the sobs came out harder. When she started gaining back some touch with her nerve ends, she crept over to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes: "Master..Master,_ please!_ I crave your forgiveness. I have been careless and foolish. There is NO doubt in my mind that you know far more than any of us. Whatever you say, I shall obey! Forgive me, my Lord..."_

_"Stand up, Bella." Voldemort ordered quietly, and Bellatrix shot upwards in a second and backed away a step._

_"Tell Pennealus to intensify his searches around that damned thing. I want satisfying results, and I shall NOT be as patient as before. _This_ is a fair warning...and now get out of my sight!"_

_Bellatrix bowed deeply and hurried out through the door, staggering slightly from the remnants of Cruciatus, intent on getting away from the Dark Lord as quickly as possible. It was no damn fun to be the dummy on which he unleashes _some_ of his anger on._

It has been three weeks now, and still no answer to the archway, and Dumbledore is ever so careful, keeping the boy well-hidden and protected. Potter lived with some relatives and that was all some Death Eaters could dig out, but by studying the boy's motives and actions, he - Voldemort - had learned that the boy's emotions took up a pathetically huge portion of his soul, and are practically what drove him around. He knew the boy must be depressed over that worthless _dog_father of his, the one who wanted to blast his servant Peter to smithereens…the one who's best friends with the boy's father, James Potter...

Voldemort's wand abruptly stopped twirling in his hand. His pet snake Nagini lifted her head up from the old rug and looked at him questioningly through poison-green, slitted eyes. He rose from his high-backed armchair, wand still in hand as he circled the room, deep in thought: "How could I have not thought of it before?" he breathed, averting his red, reptilian eyes towards the high window of the eerily lit, filthy living room of the Riddle house: "But...would James Potter still be alive after all this time? _I_ have been decreased to something _barely_ alive for thirteen years, Nagini...Would the boy still come to be alive after all this time had passed?"

_Little_ chance at that. When his soul had been torn from his body at such destructive force and pain, that almost surely would have killed James Potter off. Nonetheless, what's the loss of trying?

A delightful little plan was already starting to form in the Dark Lord's head. He could only hope that James would still exist to come back and if he did, it would be the ultimate victory over the famous Harry Potter. He'd toy with the boy's emotions till he had him in his clutches, and that would be the end of him.

Standing in front of the window, Voldemort closed his eyes for a few moments and pictured James Potter in his mind exactly the way he remembered him. He felt a slight headache; strange and a bit familiar, but brushed the thought aside and muttered: "_Finite Incatetum_." At the same time in another place - or dimension - James Potter mentally cried out in surprise and shock as he felt his mind and soul be pulled abruptly as if by an invisible hook up and out of his dark hole and thrusted back into shape with a violent shudder. It was only when he felt his fingertips tremble slightly with cold that he knew he was back into his own body.

**No.4, Privet Drive**

Harry Potter - The Boy Who Lived - leaned against his little bedroom window and watched dully without any interest, the people walking down the streets routinely outside from or to work, cats stalking around the narrow alley, and dogs barking till late hours. He saw a black dog run down the street and disappear behind a house. Tearing his eyes from where it vanished, he looked up at the red-and-gold sunset sky only to find that the longer he looked, the more the clouds started to look like big, furry dogs.

He slammed the window shut and stomped over to his bed. He moodily pushed his transfiguration book, quill and parchment all together off the bed and lay down, stuffing his head under the pillow. In a moment, a quiet sob had escaped him, followed by many others muffled by the pillow that had become -ever since his return from Hogwarts two weeks ago- salty in scent and taste with tears.

His godfather's recent death was painfully starting to sink in, along with the greater portion of his heart. Ever since he had returned to the solitary of his room back at Privet Drive, not one day has passed without him crying through the most of it. Nothing could keep his mind off his dear Sirius. Even the pictures in his schoolbooks somehow reminded him of his godfather when he tried to escape the grief and depression by doing some summer homework - and ended up either flinging the books in blinded pain across the room, or going into hysterics and ripping out some of the more reminding pages.

As a part of him still wouldn't accept the death of the person he loved so much, another part had come to terms with the fact that he'll never smile truthfully or be cheerful again. _Everyone _he felt close to either ended up in grave danger or dead, and this one had hurt - still hurts - unbearably. At times, he'd feel so lost and desperate he'd almost pack and go out searching for a way that would take him to see the dead James, Lily and Sirius.

Even his dream world was plagued with mostly horrible dreams, some of which reflected his hopes of retrieving Sirius, others that expressed the horrors of what he'd find if he ever came across his dead body. Misery and depression tortured him even in his sleep. He'd lost much weight, and his normally bright, shiny emerald eyes were a dull olive those days.

His imprisonment to his ill mental state was uninterrupted; his aunt, uncle and cousin had left for vacation to France, leaving him alone in the house - not something they'd normally do, but ever since their sinister little encounter with Moody at King's Cross, his threat had been sharply chiselled into their brains. Nevertheless, they seemed to have noticed during that very same day they had been in the house packing to leave, that the boy seemed so withdrawn. Aunt Petunia's secret guess, which was close enough to the truth, was that someone must have died.

"Sirius.." Harry breathed through hitched sobs and weak attempts to calm down and do something worthwhile other than wasting away on his bed and becoming so thin, but his exhaustion got the better of him. All the crying seemed to drain the little of his energy left and he drifted off into a restless sleep…

_He was in an old, filthy room lit in dim red. A cackling fire burned on from one side of the huge armchair he was sitting on. An enormous anaconda looked up at him as he stopped twirling his wand between his fingers. He rose up from the armchair and_ _circled the room: "How could I have not thought of it before?" he breathed_ _and averted his line of vision towards the high window of the eerily lit, filthy living room of the Riddle house: "But…would James Potter still be alive after all this time? _I _have been decreased to something barely alive for thirteen years, Nagini...Would the boy still come to be alive after all this time had passed?"_

_Harry stood in front of a window with a dusty pane, closed his eyes for a few moments…and someone appeared before him...A man. A man with untidy black hair and large, golden eyes. He looked so much like Harry, and he was _alive. Alive. Not dead. _Raising his wand, Harry muttered: "Finite Incatetum." _

The quiet countercurse was mingled with a horrified scream. Harry woke up screaming and incoherently scrambled out of bed as if it had been on fire. His scar was searing, but he didn't even remember it existed.

His father. His father was _alive_. He was **buried** _alive_. Lord Voldemort never killed him. He'd...preserved him somehow. Those thoughts were so strong in the Dark Lord's head, they seemed to echo in Harry's own. He just _knew_.

Tears were streaming down his face. He heart was ramming painfully against his chest and he felt like throwing up all his internal organs. He grabbed at the wall with one hand for support till his knuckles turned white, the other hand splayed over his mouth.

**Godric Hollow Cemetery**

James opened his eyes for the first time in fifteen years. Not that it mattered - the place was pitch-black. His sense of smell came back to him and wherever he was, there was a horrible smell; a stench of death and decay. Instinctive dread rose within him and he immediately knew: He shouldn't be here. No living creature should be here.

Not stopping to wonder how using his body had come totally naturally to him despite not using it for years, he raised his arm up from his chest and tried to sense anything. His hand touched something hard. He rested his hand on it and tried to push. Nothing moved. He tried again, but it didn't budge.

Growing more frightened and unable to block out the cold and awful smell any longer, he threw both arms against the domed surface above him. When it still wouldn't open up, he tried the sides. His breaths were coming out in short gasps and he could barely see white puffs of chilly air coming out of his mouth. The place he was in was so small and shut tight he couldn't stretch his arms to their maximum. Now panicking, he started banging the walls around him with all his might when his last encounter with Voldemort sped before his eyes and the horrible truth hit him senseless; he was believed dead. He was buried alive.

He was inside his _own_ coffin!

Panic took over and a gust of wind blew past James as he let go of a blast of wandless magic. When the dust subsided, he could see millions of sparkling, mysterious dots high above him. The night sky.

Desperate to get out of the dark, stinking place, he scrambled out of the mostly destroyed grave and slowly stood up, legs slightly wobbling from adrenalin effect. There was sufficient light to see enough now. The first thing that caught his attention were his robes; they were battered and wasting away, but by the looks and fabric, they seemed to have been very expensive. A now- dimmed golden badge was pinned to the right side of those deep red and gold robes. A large Gryffindor lion could be made out through the dirt.

He looked around the graveyard that looked too familiar to him, and recognised it immediately as Godric Hollow Cemetery, but he couldn't care less. His mind was one-tracked on one goal: _Find my wife. Find my son. Find my best friend._

He turned to leave the place when artfully chiselled words caught his eye. A tombstone standing right next to the one which was formerly his read a caption that roused a wail of despair from his throat..

**Lily Evans Potter**

_Everybody's most beloved princess._

_Beautiful person, loyal friend, wonderful wife and loving mother._

He backed away a few steps, head shaking in disbelief, breath caught in the throat . His legs gave way and he fell to the ground. He didn't stop the terrified, heartbroken sobs and incoherent words of grief breaking his heart to a million pieces before coming out of his mouth. This couldn't be _real_...this couldn't have _possibly_ happened...she should have lived..

He retched and threw up, but it didn't matter.

He'd let Lily be killed. His beautiful wife was gone from this world because he couldn't protect her properly…and Harry..

His baby boy. He was with Lily in the house..

His dull, now red eyes raised their vision up from the damp grass and at Lily's tomb. He turned blurry, streaming eyes to the right, but only the remnants of his own grave stood there. He looked to the left - but there was nothing there. No tombstone. No flowers..

He didn't know what to think. Even though his heart denied it, he couldn't see how Harry would survive if Lily didn't, but why wasn't there a tombstone with his name on it? Did people not care because he was just a baby, or had Voldemort wiped him off completely..

James shook his head violently to get rid of the gruesome images forming in his head, and a vague thought made its way through all the mist surrounding his mind: _My friends and Dumbledore wouldn't have just let him go like that. They'd have put a headstone, at least...so why isn't there one?_

Setting the thought of what Voldemort might have done aside, the logical explanation was that his little boy had somehow survived. It seemed like such a far-fetched string of hope, but he clung on to it anyways. His heart believed that his son could truly be alive. Harry has always been special, no matter how tiny he was, and he knew that if his senses were wrong, he would never be the same person again.

He slowly got to his feet and swayed slightly. Determined to get away from Lily's grave as fast as possible as a new fresh wave of tears overrode him, he walked past the grave and with a look at what lay behind it, he knew he was in the Potter portion of Godric's Hollow Cemetery. He recognised his mum and dad's graves and the most overwhelming feeling of utter loneliness washed over him. He loved his parents. How in the world had his life turned so miserable?

More graves had been added to the Cemetery. Was there any chance that any of his old friends were alive, Sirius on top of all? He knew his beloved friend would have had a crazy idea of running off, seeking revenge whether from the Death Eaters or from _Peter_ or from Voldemort himself.

What had happened so that Peter would give him away like that? He couldn't fathom why Peter would give away their location_ on purpose._ He must have been forced to.

James walked towards the cemetery gate, and found it locked tight. It can't have been for long, though, because there were fresh flowers on some of the graves.

An old oak tree stood by the cemetery wall. Having never lost an ounce of his gracefulness and limberness, he climbed up the branches and got aver the wall and outside. A sign was put up on the cemetery gate, and James noticed for the first time that he didn't have his glasses on. He moved closer to the sign till he was able to make out the words:

**Dear Visitors and Tourists:**

_Godric Hollow Cemetery will be closed for 100 days as the guides and keepers of this respected place have gone on vacation. Please come back soon and accept the Ministry's apologies for not being available for your requests, but the keepers and guides were starting to act strange due to lack of relaxation. Have a good day._

Nothing seemed real to James. His life had always been so perfect, and now he had nothing. He had to get away, fast. The first thought that came to mind was his house - his cozy, welcoming house. Without further thought, he headed towards it on foot without pausing to remember where it was. After being left with nothing but sorting through one's thoughts and memories for so many years, one could remember almost anything.


	3. The Capture and The Escape

Takes a bow

Thanks, everybody! Is my story really that good! You really can lift someone's spirit during examtimes! I've finished the lousy exams so now I'm a bit more free. Sorry for the massive delay in updating, but I had to send my stupid computer away to be fixed - I think there's a virus in my modem or something.. anyways, I hope you enjoy chapter 3 just as much!

Review replies:

_amrawo_: Thanksies! Glad you liked the chapter!

_Schnickledooger_: Oh God, you're still bawling, darling? hands a tissue You're not alone. Everyone who had the sense to love Sirius cursed J.K into the 155th century. But, know that miracles happen! tiny, itsy, bitsy little hint

_Barbossa'sApples_: Thanks a lot!

_IamSiriusgrl and Eric2_: I'm glad you love the story! I try to update as soon as I can! I really do!

_zebraFinch_: Oh my God, thanks a lot! You really like my writing that much? P.S: What sort of fic would this be if James never meets Harry! I'll throw myself out the window before i even think of that..

_RainingInsanity_: Thank you _so so_ much for your compliments! I hope the next chapters and this one appeal to you just as much! I love it that you like the idea f how James turned out to be alive, but I have to tell you that this idea is - unfortunately - not completely original. I once found a 'James is alive' fanfic on this very site and the idea of how he lived was stunningly similiar to this one, even though I created the idea myself, but the other fic's starting date is much earlier than mine! Oh, well...it's amazing how people's thoughts from different countries could be so similiar.

To those who see no reply to their reviews above..I'm really sorry, but you must have reviewed after day 10/5/2005!

Chapter 3: _The Capture_

**No. 4, Privet Drive**

Harry's scar continued to prickle uncomfortably after waking up from the vision, but he hardly noticed. It's been a half-hour since he learned that his supposedly-dead father was alive. No matter how hard he tried to think, sickening scenes and scenarios kept popping up in his head.

His father had never died. He was buried _alive_ and now Lord Voldemort is about to bring him back to lure Harry - if he still lived to this day.

_Or if he hadn't already suffocated inside his coffin._

Harry shook his head and leaned again against the wall, with new tears softly sliding down his flushed cheeks. He closed his eyes and tried to think, and a new thought came to him:

What if this whole vision was an illusion? What if Voldemort had fabricated the whole thing up to make him make the same foolish mistake that made him lose his dear godfather in the first place?

He didn't want to have someone else killed because of him - because of his reckless mistakes. The emotional and loving side of him - however - took the firmer hold. His father is known to be dead by everyone and confirmed, but Voldemort had just said that he'd banished his soul and now brought it back. _Back..._

Trapped inside a dark, dead grave. Harry clamped a hand over his mouth and sank to the floor. How would that feel, being locked up in a box underground where no one can ever hear you even when you scream your lungs hoarse for help..

"Enough! Please _enough_!" Harry sobbed, clawing weakly at his head. His head fell non-too gently against the wall and he started crying all over again. This was too much. He had to know the truth before he totally lost his mind with grief. He replayed Voldemort's words again in his head.

He abruptly stood up and wiped his eyes in his sleeve. His father was either dead or alive. He's going to find out and no one will stop him. If James was dead.. then Harry wouldn't be risking anyone because no one will know he's gone until it's too late, but if James was _really_ alive, then he'd be with him even if they never got out of Voldemort's clutches.

_Or Maybe - just maybe - I might get lucky and escape with him._ The hopeful voice in any human whispered.

Now that decision made, Harry found himself against another obstacle: How the hell was he going to find Voldemort's lair? He didn't have the foggiest idea where it could be, besides the fact that it's very likely to be in Britian. _Another_ problem intoduced itself into his mind: What's he going to do with Mundungus and Figgs and all those watching him but hidden from view? They'd never let him out of his sight as soon as he left the house and won't let him go anywhere - not after Dumbledore's strict orders.

_First things first, _Harry thought firmly. He stood still, a strange power of determination mingled with magic coursing through him and focused with all his might as he attempted to do something he never thought he'd do; he was going to enter Voldemort's mind - _willingly_.

**Godric's Hollow**

James sprinted down Godric's Hollow - which seemed mostly empty and forbidden - and stopped when he was sure he was in front of No.14, otherwise he wouldn't have believed that the old, filthy ruins surrounded by a still, slighty grey mist reflected in his hollow eyes used to be his lovely house. The part that had marvellously remained standing seemed on the verge of collapsing any second. The windows were smashed; the walls were holed and upstairs seemed like it had been the sight of an explosion.

He went through what used to be the front door and his eyes filled with tears as he looked at what used to be the living room. One of the couches was still in one piece, but dirty and inverted. The windows, the library shelves and the vases have been shattered or at least broken with many of the pieces missing. His footsteps sounded dull and lost against the bare, partly-missing floor. The walk through the kitchen and the guest room were as depressing, and his tears never stopped flowing.

He climbed the stairs and cried out in pain when his leg got caught in a hole between the steps. Yanking it back out, he climbed up the rest of the stairs and stood outside his and Lily's room: the first on the left. Destroyed but recognisable as it was, James couldn't bring himself to set a foot inside and instead walked over to Harry's little nursery just five feet away, as there was no wall to separate both rooms any longer.

He got a closer look at the little room and thought he'd die of grief right then. There was hardly any floor. The walls were holed and charred. Harry's little toys were dirty and hardly recognisable. James noticed that the black charring and ashes seemed to be coming from the centre of the room right were Harry's crib always stood, and now it was just one of the crib's legs that he could see.

He choked.

"Oh, _Harry_..!" he sobbed and ran out of the house as fast as he could, with bits of the floor giving way behind him as he bolted through the hall, down the stairs and out of the house where he fell onto the dead, un-mowed grass and cried harder than ever.

**The Riddle House - No. 4, Privet Drive**

Nagini slithered over to her master's seat and lifted her head up with a low hiss.

"Patience, dear Nagini. We shall be having a guest quite soon, and you will have a good feast." he said and stood up lazily and moved towards the window. He gazed outside onto the dark street and gardens with anxiety and anticipation, waiting for the Death Eaters he had sent to return with Potter senior.

The neighbourhood was quiet and dark. A stray brown cat could be barely seen disappearing into an alley and a large barn owl landing onto a dirty black sign:

**Wissledeth Street**

**Rinkledin Road**

**Lanselnott Street**

_Little Hangleton_

Again, Lord Voldemort felt the familiar, strange headache he'd felt only a while before, and the slight feeling of being watched. But before he could dwell on it, gone it was and back at Privet Drive, Harry fell heavily onto the side of his bed, panting slightly, his own headache throbbing against his scar - although it wasn't half as bad as it is when Voldemort tries to enter _his_ mind.

When it eased a bit, he started to think how in the world he was going to get out of the house. He can't fly - his Firebolt wasn't with him, and he can't take a cab as he had no Muggle money. The only chance he had was the Knight Bus, but he knew Mundungus could be close by the house. If not, Arabella Figg was, and neither would let him go far away from the house and if he explained - they'll probably lock him up in his room, tell Dumbledore and he'll send Aurors who'll attack the whole place and very probably his father.

_Like they'll believe it's really dad, _he thought sadly, feeling so alone. But he cleared his mind and focused on how he would catch the Bus.

"Could it come in here?" he asked no one, and decided that it _probably_ could. He walked over to his bedside table, took his wand and hurried down the stairs and into the wide living room. The curtains were shut and it was quiet outside. A good beginning. He moved the sofa, table and couches against the walls of the living room to leave as large empty an area as he could in the centre of the room.

Breathing hard from the effort, he stood on the side and waved his wand outwards as if waving for a cab. He almost passed out with relief when the Knight Bus appeared in the living room with its trademark BANG and screeched to a halt before a collidal with the kitchen door. If Harry had been less keen to leave, he would have been terrified at what his aunt and uncle would do to him when they come back and see the living room carpet lined with black tyre marks and the floor cracking noisily and slightly giving way beneath the bus's enormous weight.

Stan Shunpike appeared at the opening bus door and beamed at the sight of Harry, vaguely noticing that he and the Bus were inside a Muggle house: " 'Arry Potter! 'Tis so good to see u 'gain! Comin 'ere! Where d'u wanna gao, this toime?"

"I have to get to Little Hangleton, Stan - a street called Wissledoth or Wissledeth - something like that. Hurry up, please!" Harry replied breathlessly and hopped in, but stopped on the little step when he remembered his Invisibility Cloak - and his money.

"Hold on _just_ a minute, Stan! Just a minute, please!" and with that, he ran back up to his bedroom and grabbed his money bag and Cloak from his open trunk. Not pausing to see whether he'll need anything else, he jumped down the steps in threes and fours. As he passed by one of the curtained windows of the living room, he thought he saw a shadow moving outside, struggling to see through. The matted hair looked familiar – _Mundungus_!

Harry jumped onto the bus and whispered urgently :"Hurry, Stan! _Go_!"

"Hold 'ur 'ippogriffs! U 'eard 'im, Ern - take it 'way!"

One and a half second later, the living room was left empty with a BANG, and the floor left badly cracked with dirt enough to make Harry's aunt pass out. The living room window was shattered to pieces and Mundungus stumbled in. He straightened up, and stared blankly with his mouth hanging open at the empty living room.

**Godric's Hollow**

"This is _insane_, Lucius! No normal person can _believe_ this! How in Hell is Potter alive? _How_?"

"Avery..." Lucius answered, sounding irritated and a bit unnerved, "I know no more than you do about this, but you were there - and the Dark Lord refused to tell us anything more than the fact that he never killed him - and I was not as foolish as you to insist on knowing the reason. You are very lucky he didn't kill you on the spot..." he finished scathingly.

Avery flinched at the recent, unpleasant memory and turned round the corner with Malfoy, coming closer towards No.14.

"Why couldn't we just Apparate?" he grumbled under his breath, but Lucius heard him and smirked. _Why does everyone I know so stupid?_

"Because Master wanted us to search every place from the Cemetery to here, brainwave. We cannot do that when we are _Apparating_." he drawled.

Avery looked at Lucius's mostly-hidden face beneath the hood of his cloak :"Brainwave? _Brainwave?_ What brought that to your memory now? I remember you calling Potter that back in the old schooldays." he commented, smiling slightly.

"Indeed. I cannot deny that he is very intelligent, but he was still one of those useless fools who fail to see our Lord's reason."

_Stupid Gryffindors. No sense of self-preservation whatsoever, and they come back to you just when you thought you've gotten rid of them forever._

"I would enjoy it if Master allowed me to kill him." he said softly, maliciously "It would quite satisfy my - dislike for him."

"I don't really think that could happen, Lucius," Avery said "He'll want Potter for himself like he did all the other times...but I thought you will have rather enjoyed the thought of imagining him waking up in his own grave." he finished with a giddy sort of note in his voice.

Remembering the eerie scene of the blown-up grave, Lucius secretly thought it was too gruesome to do this to someone - even to a person who disgusted him. So he hadn't really savoured the thought much.

"Well, we have searched the Cemetery and the street leading up to here, so he's probably at his house - if it is legal to call what's left of it that."

They marched quietly, hidden by the darkness down the abandoned street which was never the same again after the fateful Halloween night 15 years ago. As they got closer, faint sobs of a broken voice started creeping into their ears.

"Shh..quietly now.." Lucius ordered and they crept up to the gate in front of the ruins of No. 14, where the crying was clearer and harder.

Lucius supressed a shiver and went through the open gate, Avery following. Even though they knew what they were coming for, seeing James Potter for the first time in _15_ years after supposedly being dead still came as a shock. They both stood there for a few short moments, taking in James's lithe figure on the grass, his face hidden by his hair which seemed not to stick up for the first time in Lucius's opinion, crying bitterly. His robes were old and wasting away - they had to be the same ones he was buried with.

_This is…beyond gross. Why am I watching this?._

"_Come on_." Lucius whispered and cautiously stepped into the front yard, taking slow, quiet steps so as not to alarm Potter - not that it would have mattered with all the sobbing. Feeling more confident, he and Avery came to a halt on either side of him. Lucius pulled his wand out and stunned him. James's crying stopped quite abruptly, as if stabbed, then slumped onto the ground, unconscious.

"That was pathetically easy." Lucius said smugly, nudging James's head slightly with the tip of his shoe.

"Hmm. Let's take him back." Avery said and bent down to hold one of James's limp arms and prepare to Apparate. Lucius did the same: "One...Two.."

Within a second, No. 14, Godric's Hollow was empty once again.


	4. Half Baked Rescue Part 1

A.N: Thank God! I'm so glad you all loved the chapter!

Sorry I couldn't reply to chap3 reviews in chap4, but I was in a hurry (I had tennis practice in an hour). I want you to tell me whether my english is good enough or a bit childish for the Egyptian 16-year-old using it (Thanks a lot for your compliments on my english, Marie Dantes. I hope the other readers think the same!). I like sophistication and new words in stories and novels, I can't help it! That's why I love the HP books - I have to use the dictionary every now and then to get some words (like _aspersions_ in book 5). The 6th book came out, but everytime I go out to buy it, I only find the British version (which I really dislike! No animation, no Illustrations!) I might have to wait till the American version comes into the libraries here, which can be by December! Really, I don't know if I can wait that long.. well, So long for now!

P.S: YOU'RE SO LUCKY OUT THERE - ALL YOU WHOM HAVE READ BOOK 6!

Reviews:

_Lilyseyes27, Pint Of Stella, Suicidal Bunnies(Cute Name!) and CzechChika_: Thank you lots! I try to update as soon as possible, but it's the computer you should be spitting on. (Useless heap of plastic and -um- some steely things!)

_ZebraFinch: _I love your eagerness! You'll know later on why Voldemort's so intent on having James joining his Death Eaters (although when you think of it thoroughly, it's really not worth ALL the trying), but that doesn't mean he was joking when he said he's giving James a FINAL chance! It really is. As for my computer, it seems to have a brain of its own - no matter what I do, it just insists on ruining my updating. Think I'll get a laptop in a year or two..

_:_ Thanks a lot!

_WhiteRose101 and amrawo: _Thank you LOTS! (I think I'm gonna be really bigheaded soon!)

_dweem-angel and MasterLupin117: _You'll know later on why and where Voldemort left! Don't worry, he won't be back too soon.

Chapter 5: _Half-baked Rescue - Part 1_

**Wissledeth Street - The Riddle House**

Harry couldn't believe his luck - it was too good to be true. By the looks of it, Voldemort had left with most of his Death Eaters that hadn't gone to Azkaban and left the lair mostly empty. He knew there had to be at least one Death Eater inside guarding his father, but that's much better than having a small house swarming with them!

He moved stealthily towards the house. There were no lights on inside and no voices talking that he could hear. He didn't think of that as very reassuring, but it still gave him a feeling of safety with what he's about to do.

He saw a small, dusty window on the right side of the house. He looked around him first, and saw that there were no people on the street or any looking out the windows or anything. Quickly, he took off the Cloak and stuffed it inside a pocket and slowly pushed the window upwards. It slid with difficulty and a slight creaking noise. When it was open enough to pass him through, he squeezed in through it and landed as quietly as he could onto the dirty floor of the house. Grateful that it was too filthy to make a squeaking noise, he waited for his eyes to adjust in the dark - afraid that using his wand right then would be a terrible mistake to make. It hardly made a difference, though. The place was really dark and he couldn't determine what the still outlines of some objects in the room were.

Still taking the chance, he kept close to the wall and moved slowly towards what seemed to be the frame of an open door. His sight was real, and he walked into another room. It seemed even darker than the first; he couldn't see or hear a thing besides the rapid beating of his heart. He pulled out his wand and took the risk.

"_Lumos_." he whispered, and a ball of light shone at the tip of his wand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see odd-looking things hanging from the walls and ceiling that reminded him greatly of Grimmauld Place. There were a few scattered chairs and a table on the right side close to a tiny room that he supposed was a bathroom or something. A narrow staircase rose up to the upper storey on his far left. He went over to climb it when a dim light under the stairs caught his eye.

He looked around at it, and saw that the light was thin and rectangular shaped, coming out through a small door right under the stairs. He cautiously moved closer to it and leaned his head against the door to listen for any sound. His heart leapt with excitement and anxiety at hearing voices, although it seemed like they were coming from a distance away. He knew he was breathing louder than normal but couldn't seem to quiten it down. His father _had_ to be down there - he _had_ to be!

He stuck his ear against the door, struggling to hear a word, but the voices were either too low or too far away for him to recognise anything they said.

_How do I know when to get inside?_ he huffed at his uncertainty, _**Now**__ I wish I had an eye like Mad-Eye's.._

He will have to enter with a surprise attack - that was his only choice. He knew it was stupid - downright reckless, but he wasn't going to wait till whoever was inside came out and got him. Right now, the only thing he wanted was to get inside and see if his father was real - if he was alive, even though he was afraid of the answer.

_I'll go in with a Stunner. _he decided a bit dumbly, and prayed that he would be fast enough if there was more than one Death Eater in there. He placed a shaking hand on the cool knob and braced himself for attacking.

**The Dungeon Of The Riddle House**

"Come any closer, and your eyeballs will be hanging in shreds off my nails." James hissed, trying to stand ground against the tyrant Death Eater towering in front of him.

The overly large Death Eater - which James doubted wasn't completely human (half-giant..?) - laughed a loud, malicious laugh: "I'm mortified." he pushed James – without effort - against one wall and pinned him there :"It's been very long since I last had a human for a practice ragdoll, and who am I to say no when the Dark Lord had just given me permission to slowly torture you ?"

_"Ophlidon here shall keep you company, James." Voldemort burst into malicious laughter as the enoromous man walked through the door, "I will be back in a while - Ophlidon, There's only one of him, so don't get carried away and kill him – we still want dear Mr. Potter to hang with us some more." and with that, he turned and left, closing the door behind him. James could still hear his taunting laughter ebbing away._

James could only squirm where he was pinned against the wall. The half-giant wizard was very strong, and he only needed one arm to pin James. , He leaned closer, looking ready to kill. James instinctively tried to push as far away from the Death Eater into the wall as he could, but he was already nearly a part of it. Ophlidon seemed to enjoy watching James's useless attempts at fighting back.

Growing more furious and indignant, James started thrashing against the big man, aiming at his face and eyes. A loud slap sounded and James's head turned a clean 90 degrees. He didn't miss the chance, however. He bit down the large index finger visible in front of his mouth as hard as he could. He tasted blood.

"AOOW!" the Death Eater cried and wrenched his hand with the bloody finger away from James. Seeing the large key dangling from one of the large man's pockets, James ducked under his arm and grabbed them with light fingers, but something caught him around the waist before he reached the door and the key was knocked out of his hands and it skidded through the crack under the door.

Ophlidon threw James onto the cold floor and stood high and mighty over him, one leg threatening to put a hole through his chest. He didn't speak a word, but the deadly glint in his eyes was more than enough to make James shiver with dread.

And surely, he twisted his leg deeper into the fallen wizard's chest.

"_Oorgh_! Get..get _OFF_ m-me, you - _Ooogh_! _Get off-_!" James choked in fear and pain.

None of them heard the clicking sound of a key inserted shakingly but forcefully into a lock, but both looked up simultaniously upon hearing the door creak open and a petrified Harry standing at it.

All three wizards just gaped at one another, each apparently forgetting what they were about to do. Harry's wand was slowly slipping through his fingers towards the ground. James stared up at the familiar yet new face with impossibly wide eyes, a dozen emotions playing visibly through them. The Death Eater was staring at Harry in disbelief, his hand still clutching a handful of James's robes, but he was the first to recover and let them go.

"_You_!" he said hoarsely, as if he still couldn't believe it :"What - how did you - you're supposed to be - and Master went there..." the man looked like he was hyperventilating or something, but when he mentioned Voldemort, his expression changed drastically from shock to malicious glee:"You're _mine_!"

Forgetting James, he jumped to his feet and bounded towards Harry, who tore his eyes away from his father's face just in time to hold his wand right and shout:"_Stupefy_!"

The Death Eater staggered backwards a few steps and hunched over, wheezing. James rolled off the floor and flew out the door past him and stood beside Harry, who forced himself to keep his eyes on the Death Eater.

Ophlidon looked up, his face strained but definitely not Stupefied. In a flash, his own wand was out and pointed at Harry:"Not enough, kid - all those encounters with my master seem to teach you nothing new."

BANG.

A jet of purple light burst out of the tip of the Death Eater's wand and sent Harry into the wall behind him, knocking his wand out of his hand. His view was filled with the large man a moment later, yanking him up by the collar of his shirt. He could hear his father yelling, but they weren't words he recognized. He tried to struggle against the Death Eater, but a loud crashing sound, shards flying, and the man letting go of his collar and collapsing onto the floor, blood oozing from his head, made him stop. A couple of feet behind the fallen Death Eater, his father stood with his - Harry's - wand in his hand, breathing heavily.

TBC..

A.N: Don't kill me, please!(otherwise you'll never know what happens next) But I found that if I continued the chapter on this update, I'll be updating really late, because I'll be quite busy the upcoming days, and I couldn't leave you waiting forever like this.

I hope that the Death Eater Ophlidon didn't make you too grossed out to continue reading, but I purposely wanted him to be left with James because Voldemort wants to try breaking him, taking advantage of his already terrible state. This DOES happen in some areas of the world. Am I making sense?

REVIEW! Thanks!


	5. Half Baked Rescue Part 2

A.N: Sorry for the extremely long delay, everyone. My computer just got worse and worse till it completely and pathetically crashed so I had to send it to repairing. I got it back about 10 days ago with every document wiped off it, including this story, so I had to repair and rewrite a few things. Also, I had more exams (yeah, in case you're wondering, they never end) and all I was doing at the time was eat, study, sleep and pray. So thanks for waiting. I'm an enthusiastic fanfic reader myself and I know how frustrating it feels like to have the author not update for weeks or even months!

Now that I've finished (bows after speech), read and (hopefully) enjoy! I know it's not long enough, but I didn't want to wait any longer.

I've answered to some of your reviews! (The longest ones are my FAVE!) I'm sorry I couldn't answer in detail but I had to update today!

**Reviews**:

_Cutiedanix, Siriuslyaphanatic, FrostyAKE, applesollie, Rose13, farubafan92_, _Dweemangel, Brittles, Anaxandra, Ruby Esperansa Potter, amrawo, XXnefertariXX_ _and themaraudersaremine_ : Thank you so much! You guys push me forward!

_Enchanted Blood_ and _Red Ranger Chick_: You're so sweet (smiles innocently). I said before that I had exams coming up and updating's gonna be difficult, so I know you love me deep down! I Hope you love this chapter!

_Kathryn Merlin_: Harry quite learned his lesson after the D.O.M, and that's why he told no one that he's leaving so as not to endanger his friends and the Order again, apart from the fact that he has to go and see if his father's alive.

_ZebraFinch:_ I hope you like Part 2! I know cliffies are frustrating, but I had to do it otherwise you were going to have to wait till I update the chapter altogether today!

And as for where I live, it's Cairo. Believe me, one of the strangest cities in the world! Virgin Megastore has opened for the first time here last September at my favorite mall, and they sell BOTH British and American copies! My Aunt treated me to an American copy about 12 days ago and I finished reading it in about 8 or 9 days. One of the most exciting parts for me was when Snape and Harry started shouting at each other across the school grounds, calling each other a coward. I just love encounters between the both of them! And the weather was a bit cold that night I was reading those last few chapters (I was wearing shorts and a sleeveless top, hehe!) so that sort of gave some cool effect while reading this really sinister book!

_Moonfyre_: Lol! Thanks for your review! Ophlidon is half-giant, as you probably guessed, so a Stunner cast by a 16 year old won't affect him much.

Chapter 5: _Half-Baked Rescue – Part 2_

The Death Eater might as well not have been there at all. Harry and James just gazed at one another. Neither of them seemed to find the silence awkward, too busy with what they were seeing. The grief-stricken, lost look on James's face cut deep and chill in Harry and for a moment, all he wanted to do was rush to the man he hardly knows and embrace him till he passes out. James seemed not to know where he is or how and when and why he'd gotten there. Harry could almost touch the grief vibrating from the man before him, but it was still bound by desperate disbelief and shock. His eyes weren't those intense ones sparkling with mischief and laughter he had seen in Snape's pensieve, but were hollow and glassy.

"It's me, Dad." Harry whispered. He knew this was his father, and no doubts circled his mind. Strangely, he felt quite calm and at peace, but maybe it was the sheer exhaustion that made him feel this way.

James opened his mouth slightly, but no sound came out. His destroyed house and the blasted-apart room of his son kept flashing before his eyes, but there was his boy right in front of him, looking pretty alive, and with Lily's green eyes. There were no eyes clearer than those. Emotions ran deeply and visibly through them no matter how Lily tried to hide them. She passed her enchanting eyes to his son. He couldn't see any hate or malice in them. No, they were soft and honest and looked at him longingly, overbright.

"Harry." Came out so quietly Harry only knew it was so from James's lip movement. James's confused gaze on him sharpened slightly as if hit by a stunning piece of information and a look of confused relief appeared on his features.

_If Harry is alive, this probably means that Lily and Sirius are alive, too!_ There was something wrong about that last thought, but he couldn't quite place it. His mind was shutting down. The whole world seemed to be darkening and he couldn't seem to bring the person standing in front of him into good focus anymore.

He swayed alarmingly and nearly fell, but Harry ran forward and pushed him upright as gently as he could. "Come on, Dad – Let's get out of here." he said, taking his own wand and leading him around the still Death Eater on the floor and out of the door. James's legs were barely working and the only thing that seemed to make him go was the now - vague idea of his son leading him.

Harry had no idea what he was going to do if Voldemort and his Death Eaters appeared suddenly, but what motivated him to come here at all was what motivated him to leave in the same way, relying only on fate and good fortune.

"_Lumos_."murmured Harry, and he led his father through the dark house by the light of his wand and helped him out of the open window. He came out after him and slid the creaking window closed.

The street looked as empty as it had been when he first came, and right then, staring quite blankly around them, he realized he couldn't go back with James to 4, Privet Drive, let alone ride the Knight Bus with a man who looks like he'd just come out of a death-like experience.

"Dad, can you walk for a bit? We have to find a place to stay. You need to get some rest." said Harry, patting his arm gently and holding his dusty hand. James looked at Harry for a few moments when he touched his hand and Harry was again a bit unnerved by James's lack of expression, when James gave a tiny nod and said:"Yes."

"Good, but you have to get under the Invisibility Cloak with me. No one should see us." Harry continued in the same calm tones, taking out his cloak and throwing it around the both of them:"Bend a little lower, Dad; your feet are still visible – good, let's go."

Harry led them both down the same dark route he had taken to arrive at the Riddle House, now only having a vague idea of where they should go: he remembered a seemingly old and empty little cabin very close to where he had landed from the Knight Bus. There was no place he could go where people will simply welcome James Potter with open arms without sending him through Hell, first. James had started crying again next to Harry, and the terrible sadness in his sobs brought tears to Harry's eyes, and a few spilled down his cheeks. But he had another fear: his father may wake up sleeping people in the houses nearby, because the dead quiet of the street made the crying have a haunting echo.

"Dad, please…take it easy. It'll be alright…."he whispered, taking James's arm and hand tightly in his. James returned the squeeze weakly but desperately, and his sobs quieted slightly but did not stop. Harry speeded up his pace, pulling James with him, wanting to get to the cabin as fast as they could before people start to wake up.

In a while, they arrived at the small, dark cabin standing opposite to the street sign in Lanselnott. The windows were boarded up but the wood used to board up the door was broken and damaged. It gave room for a person to squeeze through. The inside was completely dark.

Looking around them again, Harry took off the cloak and held up his wand when he remembered – with a sickening jolt – that he had performed magic outside school, three times in the same night!

It was over. It was _really_ over. Ministry officials might just swoop down on them any moment now and snap his wand in two, or worse, throw his father to the dementors or blast him back to his grave…

"Oh, _no_…!"Harry sighed in frustration. He couldn't shout; he couldn't swear, and he found that he didn't care about his attendance at Hogwarts as much as he did just a few hours ago. He'd really messed up – again. If the Ministry officials find them, he'll lose his father again, and now despite their short time together that couldn't quite be called pleasant, that thought was unbearable. He would never give up James without a fight.

"What's wrong?" Harry looked around into his father's red eyes.

"I forgot I'm still underage and performed magic outside school." he muttered tiredly, leaning his shoulder against one of the damaged wooden planks, feeling as if he's in one strange dream. Then another simple thought occurred to him.

"Dad, you can use magic anytime now. Can you light up that cabin? Remember the spell?_Lumos_?"

He gave James his wand and stood close by him, holding his hand again. James raised it in front of them and lit the way into the cabin.

It was very old and quite bare. The walls and corners were covered in cobwebs . The wooden floor was downright filthy. However, there was what looked like a gray, grubby sink at one wall, a small door that led to a tiny bathroom that can't possibly be used, and a floor matt beside the wall on their right side.

"What a _depressing_ place." James commented. Harry looked around at him in surprise, and his heart lifted slightly. It seemed to him that James was starting to get a bit over his initial shock at seeing Harry and simply leaving with him, asking no questions at all.

"I know. It's like a-"Harry bit back the word 'grave' just in time:"It's disgusting, but we don't have anywhere else to go right now…"

"Why not?"

"Everyone thinks you're gone." Harry told him softly: "I can't take you home, or anywhere else with _people_. Not now. We have to stay here – at least till morning. You have to rest, Dad, and then we should figure out how to tell everyone about you being alive."

He led James to the dusty, threadbare matt with a thin, graying blanket. He gave them a hard shake first, sending two or three spiders scurrying away from under them, and made James lie down on the matt. He could see James would have cracked something about the filthy matt, but in his current condition, he just laid down quietly. Harry pulled the blanket over him and without really asking, moved James's head into his lap, taking the pillow's place.

"Get some sleep, Dad."

James looked up at Harry, exhaustion rapidly getting the better of him: "Harry?"

"What is it?"

"I don't understand …I - I don't know how I got there…"

"I know you're confused, Dad," Harry said soothingly: "but go to sleep now. We can talk in the morning. I'll be right here."


	6. Hideout at the Leaky Cauldron

A/N: Finally! This chapter has taken me AGES to write! I kept changing the plot and the conversations more times than I can remember. It was supposed to be longer, but I found that it would have ended with a _killer_ cliffie, and I couldn't do that to you after you've waited for so long…

So read and review! I need to read your opinions bad!

**Reviews:**

_Mrmistoffelees, bumblebuzz, DolphinChick, Lady Gallatea, amrawo, EnchantedBlood, lil miss marauder, Blinking Emeralds Leader of the HDPPAKHIAHW hunting squad (lol!) and prongsthewhiteheart:_ Thank you all for the reviews and telling me of my grammar mistakes! And thanks for waiting! NOW REVIEW FOR THIS CHAPTER(OR ELSE)!

_Siriuslyaphanatic:_ Wow! Did the previous chapter touch you that much? Cool! Tell me what you think of this one!

_MasterLupin117:_ _Dun dun dun…_you'll see what happens…and thanks for telling me about the grammar!

_LoveroftheTwins326:_ Yeah, it's SO cute, all right! That's the way I imagine it would be if Harry got his dad back.

_Lady Taliesin:_ Thank you lots (blushing)! I've read some James returns ffs, too, and it's always Dumbledore or Remus who find him first (and Harry's the last to know. How awful it hurts!), so I thought I'd make Harry find him first – it's sweeter that way. And another reason (I have to come clean on this one) I don't like neither Remus nor Dumbledore! Thanks for telling me about my grammar, and as for Sirius coming back…what do you think I'd _do_?(grins evilly)

Chapter 6: _Hideout at the Leaky Cauldron_

**Old Cabin**

For nearly four endless hours, James kept turning on his sides every other minute in a disturbed sleep, keeping a very exhausted but not-disgruntled Harry in a state much closer to being awake than lightly sleeping.

The fact that they were hiding in a rundown cabin very close to Voldemort's hiding place, speaking of whom can return any moment and find James missing and burn down the entire neighborhood to get at them kept popping up in Harry's head. He just felt stupid and irresponsible. He didn't have any idea what to do when James woke up. The sky outside was still black and starry; the time was around 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning. He couldn't go back to Privet Drive, Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts or anywhere he or James would be too recognizable. He already knew that Mundungus was outside No.4 when he made his escape so now he was sure Mundungus had told everyone of the Order members that he was missing – that he'd left in the Bus, judging from the tire marks left on the living room carpet. Some of them could be waiting on it this very moment...Not to mention the Ministry officials who could swoop down on the both of them any moment now, but haven't yet for some reason only God knows.

_Maybe it would have been easier if we were Metamorphmagi. No one would ever suspect a thing._ He thought of Tonks's old lady disguise with a dull sort of wistfulness, unconsciously brushing the dust out of James's hair, who still smelled like earth. Slowly he started to wonder if his dad could use his wand to alter their appearances a bit with some good Transfiguration. He'd been told before that James was exceptionally excellent at Transfiguration…

If they could change their appearances – reversibly and harmlessly, of course – they might get on the Bus undetected, and go to the incredibly old but comfortable Leaky Cauldron. He and James will stay there under disguise for as long as it takes for Harry to convince his friends that James was truly alive but in need of care.

Knowing that it's better to move right now, as Voldemort was probably back in his lair, screaming – or pretty much on his way to, Harry looked down at his father to wake him, but found that James's eyes were already open and looking up at him , studying the nearly-adult face.

"I've missed on so much, haven't I?" he whispered sadly, and Harry was hurt again at seeing his hazel eyes fill with tears.

"Not much, no." Harry said earnestly." It'll be alright, us together. I _swear_, that this is the happiest day of my life...but right now we've got to get away from here, Dad. Voldemort's base or whatever that house is – it's only a little walk from here, and he can find us easy. I – I don't really know where to go except to the Leaky Cauldron but…but even there, people will recognize us. So I was thinking right now: some of my friends had told me that you're so cool in Transfiguration…can you change the way we look a bit?"

"Your friends know me?" James asked, hope springing to his eyes. "Who are they?"

"People you've known for a long time." replied Harry, smiling. "Like Dumbledore."

"He's – he's still alive?"

"Yeah, he is. And he's still my headmaster at Hogwarts." For a fleeting moment, Harry thought he saw what might have been anger cross his father's face at the mention of Dumbledore, but dismissed it quickly. _It must be the darkness. The lighting's playing tricks on me…_

Harry was afraid of hearing James ask a very possible next question _'What about my other friends? Are they alive, too?'_, so he quickly asked again:" Dad, can you change our appearances with my wand? We have to move now."

James slowly got up. "OK."

Harry gave him his wand and watched anxiously as James thought for a second, then pointed it at his own nose and muttered an incantation under his breath. And slowly, his nose started changing shape: it shortened then broadened until James lifted the wand off.

"_Whoa_." Harry said with a smile, and felt better when a shadow of a proud smile passed by James' lips. Harry watched him change the color of his eyes to black and his face turn a bit fuller with redder cheeks. Then he pointed the wand at Harry and changed his nose to one identical to James' new one, darkened his complexion a bit, changed his big green eyes to small blue ones and lengthened his hair till his bangs fell almost beneath his eyes.

"Great, thanks. Now let's get on the bus."

**The Knight Bus – The Leaky Cauldron**

The ride on the Knight Bus was a very quiet, somber one. There were no Order members on board. In fact, there were only 2 other passengers, one of which was fast asleep. Stan wasn't there, and Ernie just drove on, looking shaken and pale, never talking or asking questions. He only grunted an agreement when Harry told him to go to the Leaky Cauldron. James and Harry had sat on a bed close to the door. They were both mostly silent, but Harry held his father's hand reassuringly. A short while later, the Bus screeched to a halt right in front of the little front door of the Leaky Cauldron. Both men said a short, low-voiced 'Goodnight' and stepped off the Bus right before it disappeared. The colours of dawn were very slowly starting to appear above the buildings. Harry took James' hand and walked up to the door and knocked.

The whispered conversations he could hear from behind the door immediately ceased, and he could almost feel the tension and alarm falling over the people sitting inside. However, a few seconds later, Tom, the keeper of the inn, opened the door cautiously and grunted: "Who's there?"

"Good evening, sir." Harry started in his slightly altered voice. " I – my father and I have been traveling, and – um — on our way back here to London, we – we were robbed. We lost all our luggage and stuff, and…and look at what they did to my dad." He pointed at James' scruffy appearance. James nodded silently. "I think I only have enough money for us to stay here for a little while, until we can – er – report and find those thieves, but -- but. Right now, my dad and I need to rest."

Tom's round, toothless face basically looked the same, old and friendly, but it was also marred with tension and a polite sort of suspicion. He looked like he couldn't decide whether to believe them or not, and Harry couldn't blame him.

"I'll have to search you for any -- erm -- unusual objects before we could accept your accommodation here, sirs." said Tom. "Surely you don't mind?"

"No, no. Not at all. We understand _perfectly_." Harry assured.

Tom took out his wand and sort of waved it slowly over their bodies. Odd, tingling waves moved out of the wand's tip and Harry felt them rebound off his skin. Tom took Harry's wand, which was still with James, and sent the waves through it. When apparently nothing happened, he gave it back to him and smiled a genuine smile.

"Beg your pardons for the wait, sirs. Please come inside. I'll show you to a room."

Tom led them through the curious stares of the few onlookers present up the crooked stairs at the far end of the bar and walked into the corridor of the second floor. He led them up to a door with the number 21 on it in peeling silver.

"There you go, gentlemen. Have a nice night! Come down for a meal or drink anytime you like. The housecleaner will come by in the morning to see if you need anything in this room..Oh, and sir – there are a couple of spare old robes in that cupboard. You could use one instead of those old rags you're wearing. I'd be glad to take them for cleaning the dishes, if you don't mind…"

"Thank you." said Harry, taking the keys from Tom and entering the room, closely followed by James. Tom bowed deeply to both and left. Harry closed the door after him.

"I think we should keep this room soundproof while we're here – or anyone might hear us and recognize our voices." Harry whispered to James. James nodded and cast a Silencing Charm around the entire room, which was quite small. Then he reversed the alterations in their appearance and changed their voices back to normal.

"That was _so_ close!" Harry sighed, falling into a bed and stretching across it, so exhausted. "But those safety procedures are just ridiculous and we're _lucky_ they are."

James made an incoherent noise of agreement and went to sit down on the empty space on Harry's bed, beside his left leg.

"I'm so glad you're here, Dad." Harry sat up leaned his forehead slowly against the side of James' head and gave him a sort of sideways hug:" I never thought it would happen…_never_… but you're here, and I'm so glad." Harry found that he wanted to say more, but couldn't. Yet.

James held Harry's closest hand tightly and whispered very quietly: "And I'm so glad you're here." His voice cracked.

Taking a deep breath, Harry tightened his embrace and asked the question he's been burning to ask ever since this whole thing began.

"Tell me what happened. What did _he_ do to you? How did he keep you alive?"

James took a few shuddering breaths. He looked on the verge of a breakdown, but it didn't horrify Harry the way Chang's tears did, or anger him the way Dumbledore's did. It but almost broke his heart, if he hadn't been -- beneath all the worry and tiredness and shock – so happy to have his dad back. And intending to keep him.

"Tell me. It'll make you feel better."

James put his arms around Harry and squeezed, to ensure to himself that his son was really there. That not all his loved ones had left him.

"He…he found our home." James started brokenly. "Even – even though we had taken all the safety measures necessary. I – I didn't want t – to lose anyone else. I was jus – just sick of it – the Order…t – those battles…everything. I used the Fidelius Charm to keep us safe, but…but it – it didn't work –" James broke into sobs. Harry leaned his head closer and rocked them gently: "Shh. It's okay. It's alright…what happened then?"

"That mo -- _monst_er blasted into our h -- home…I tried to fight him, b – b -- but I didn't stand a chance…he – he cast a spell on me…he said it would remove m -- my soul and my mind from my body and -- and preserve them apart. I had hurt so much…and – and I could nev -- never come back unless he wants to bring me back…I co -- couldn't stop him…tha -- that bastard's _ruined my lif_e and – and – Oh, God…_Lily_…_m_ -- " James' heart broke, and his strangled sobs cut at Harry's heart like a blade.

"_Oh, Dad_…" James heard the soft, cracked whisper. He turned around to fully face Harry and literally threw himself upon him in a full embrace, sobbing even harder: "Harry -- baby, I'm s – so happy I still have you. Don't you e – ever, _ever_ leave me..."

Harry could hardly breathe with James clutching him so possessively, but he was able to get the words out.

"I won't. _Ever_. I promise." He slowly pulled away to steady himself and catch his breath, then went on, looking his father in the eye. It struck him how awfully boyish he looked. The first war seemed to have had little effect on him. "I would never leave you now that I've found you. I need you with me – there is so much I need to tell you, and so much I need to hear from you."

James wiped his eyes in his right torn sleeve and looked up again at Harry." I d – don't know w – what happened after I – I got…got out of the grave. I went to – to our home and it was…it was in _ruins_. It was – it was unrecognizable. I go – got out and I started crying again and – and s – suddenly…everything went black. I woke up back in that dungeon at Voldemort's feet."

"A Death Eater must have Stunned you." Harry reasoned immediately. "Voldemort must have sent one of his Death Eaters to get you to him…"

"And how did you find me?"

Knowing that this wasn't going to be pleasant -- but crucially a must – Harry explained to James, making sure he left out as much unpleasant details till later as he could, about his scar (he even showed it to him and James gaped at it in horror and revulsion) and Voldemort's devastated condition for thirteen years, his return and them sharing thoughts and emotions through the curse scar. He explained how he fell asleep and saw Voldemort talk with his pet snake about James and say the counter curse and how he knew where to go, seeing the street sign through Voldemort's eyes.

Looking at James' horrorstruck face turn paler and more tearstained by the minute, Harry fleetingly wondered if he'll ever be able to bring himself to tell James of all the other nasty details, like Sirius…or worse yet, Wormtail…

"Oh, _God_ Harry…I'm – I w -- wasn't there f – for you all those _FIFTEEN_ years…G – God, I c – couldn't even protect you when h – _he_ came to our home, even th – though I said I would…I – I'm a h – _horrible_ father…"

"You are NOT." Harry said firmly, almost vehemently. Images of what he'd seen months ago in Snape's pensieve flashed mockingly before his vision, but he ignored them. Instead, he hugged James even tighter. "You're a good father. Everybody I know think you are and I believe them. There was _nothing_ you could do to stop Voldemort, and you standing in his face is the bravest thing I've ever heard..I can't even imagine myself willingly standing up anywhere near him…"

"_No_. No, y – you're so s – strong." James was sobbing uncontrollably now. A part of him was back in that very same chair he sat in beside Lily in front of Dumbledore only a few days before Harry's birth, hearing a mad prophecy about his son – or Frank Longbottom's – and Voldemort being connected enemies. _None can live while the other_ _survives_… And Harry's the one with a slash on his head.

"I'll _never_ let you go. I'll NEVER let him get to you..."

Harry didn't answer, but a few more tears trickled down his face. He didn't know whether they were happy tears or sad ones.


	7. The Brynmawr Werewolf

I'm sorry. I know I'm a b#$# for not posting for like 3 months, but I wanted to give you a nice chapter and not the garbage that pops into one's head when they're tired. Read and review please! I miss reading your words! By the way, sorry for not answering any reviews this update, but I guess you'll find the answers to your questions (or most of them) in this chapter.

Chapter 7: _The Brynmawr Werewolf_

After what seemed like an eternity (in fact, it was almost 7:00 a.m), Harry gently pushed James into the tiny bathroom of their hotel room to take a hot shower and change. When he came out almost an hour later, Harry was fast asleep across the bed with his glasses still on. James put on one of the robes that were inside the closet and slowly sat down on the end of Harry's bed, watching him sleep. What he was feeling at that moment could not be described. Was it shock, anger, grief or all of them combined together? The thought of losing Lily was so horrible, so brutal he could almost feel his heart bleeding. He had never felt this sort of sick grief before except once - when his parents had died.

And he still didn't know what had become of the Marauders, what had become of Sirius and Remus and – Peter?

Thinking of how Peter hadn't kept their secret well enough scared him as much as it angered him. He couldn't understand how Voldemort came to know their location even though Peter was in hiding himself. There were only 2 possibilities – he either took a stupid chance and went out of his house and got caught, or…

"No. No. Peter wouldn't do that. He's been my friend for years." James told no one.

_What about Remus? Hasn't he been your friend, too?_ A nasty voice bubbled up.

James dropped his head into his hands, frustrated. It could never have been Sirius passing information about him and his family to Voldemort. He wouldn't believe that in a thousand years. And Peter's too ridiculously naive and dependant on his friends to do a thing like that. And Remus –

_Remus was the most mature one of you all_. The voice started again, maliciously. _You and Sirius and Peter would sneak around, pulling some of the nastier pranks and throwing the blame on some poor, less-bright student and he would chase after, telling you to stop it. Telling you it's not decent._

_But Remus is smart. He can do excellent magic._

_As for Peter… he can barely spell his own last name._

On every day of his life since he went into hiding, James felt guilt and sorrow at thinking of gentle, loyal Moony as a traitor. And he thought he knew deep down that it could never be Remus. He thought that if he ever came out of hiding alive and Voldemort was destroyed, he'd go to Remus, embrace him till he faints and swear to him that he'll never doubt him again.

It slowly dawned to him, slowly walked into the conscious region of his mind. In whatever way it had happened, willingly or not, it was Peter who gave Voldemort information. The thought made James's insides freeze.

He wanted to know. He wanted to know so badly he turned around, wanting to wake Harry up and ask him about his old friends and where they were now, but his disturbed, angry expression softened at the sight of Harry's peaceful face.

This can wait a little bit. James decided he himself should try and get some sleep, but he was too drained to get up and walk to the bed 3 feet away. So he just lay back on Harry's own and slowly closed his eyes, facing his son and watching Harry's chest rise and fall as he breathed.

A gentle memory surfaced in his mind as he closed his eyes.

---------------

_"Congratulations, Mr. Potter!" the girly, way-too-perky Assistant Healer said happily to a terrified James: "Here's your baaabyyyy…_BOY

_James's restlessness and pacing ceased away immediately and he stared with wide eyes at the small bundle carried by the nurse. A few thin black hairs were visible atop a rosy head. Lily's bed was only a few feet away. Her eyes were closed._

_His arms shook as he gently took the baby from the assistant and she left. Somehow the whole pregnancy thing had seemed unreal until that moment. He couldn't_ believe_ that this was a baby boy of his own._

_"James," came Lily's tired whisper. She was awake. "Let me see him."_

_He walked over to her bed and sat down beside her. He pulled down some of the white towel covering the baby and saw his tiny face. Miniscule nose and mouth, a small tuft of black hair, about 3 eyelashes on each eyelid and just 2 faint lines about as thin as hairs making up his eyebrows._

_"Oh, God…" he couldn't help but whisper in awe._

_Lily took the baby from him and looked at it tiredly but fondly. She had forever driven James nuts about how she wanted to have babies, and hers was the most beautiful one she had ever seen, as far as she was concerned._ _The long, irritating nights with James and Sirius dancing around her swollen belly, banging on kitchen equipment and singing barbarian school-boys songs had been worth it._

_The baby opened its eyes for the first time, and James could already see whose eyes they were going to be._

_He felt so calm inside. So peaceful. He took the baby from Lily's arms and placed a soft kiss on his warm temple._

---------------

Harry just lay for a while, watching James sleep and thinking: _how am I going to tell him about Sirius? About Peter? How Remus was never the spy when he was unfairly judged so?_

Not one of the three thoughts were comforting. But he knew he had to bring them up very soon. They couldn't wait, and Harry knew – with a sickened feeling in his gut – that he's the one who has to tell his dad all that. Very soon. As soon as he wakes up.

Shoving aside the depressing thought of telling his father that his best friend had died only three weeks ago, Harry started thinking instead of how he was going to tell Ron and Hermione about James without them knowing his location. Having had people literally swoop down on him more than once to take him away from 'the danger he had thrown himself in' gave him knowledge that with an old man like Dumbledore, he can often be detected _wherever_ he was (they can easily follow the owl he sends to them as it returns to him with a response), and he had a rough idea of what would happen if the Order Members burst in and saw him lying next to a James Potter who was supposed to be dead for fifteen-freakin'-years.

He thought, but he couldn't come up with a solution that wouldn't endanger James.

As_ if us staying here in this inn isn't stupid enough, already._

The hopelessness of the situation nearly made him burst into tears. He didn't know whom to turn to, where to go, what to tell James…and the consequence of his failure was too awful to think about. There was little hope that the Order would keep James alive long enough to know that he was real.

Harry instinctively reached out with one hand and held his father's closest one a bit harder than he'd intended. James's eyes opened quickly, almost alarmed.

"It's okay, Dad. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I just -"

Harry found that his throat was suddenly very obstructed. He choked, and realized that his eyes were full of tears.

James woke up the whole way. He leaned up on one elbow and looked at Harry's reddening eyes. The hand that was held by Harry rose up and grazed his cheek and hair. "What's wrong? Harry, what's the matter?"

He wiped a couple of fat tears that fell down Harry's cheek with his thumb.

"I don't want to lose you." Came the simple reply, with Harry fighting to keep his voice steady, "I don't know where we should go. The Order and Dumbledore must be looking for me. They'll most probably come and search this whole place and find us. Dumbledore might see right through our disguises. And if they saw you…they'll – they won't believe it's you, and they won't listen to me."

"Who are in the Order?" James asked, internally terrified of knowing the answer, but _having_ to know. If his friends are in the Order, they'll believe it's him. They have to.

There it was. The question about his friends, right in Harry's face.

"There's Dedalus Diggle, Kingsley Shackebolt, Mundungus, Tonks, Professor McGonagall… and others I don't know about, from other countries, probably." Harry looked down for a moment then back up again. He could see the beginnings of despair in James's hazel eyes. He knew these weren't the names he was anxious to hear. People he knew, but wasn't all that attached to them.

"More people that I knew were in the order, but – but they're gone." Harry knew he had to tell about Sirius next, so he decided to cushion the blow with a tiny bit of good news first.

"Your old mate Remus Lupin is alive."

James stared at Harry for a moment or two, then fresh tears started to run down his cheeks. Harry saw what was probably a smile. "He is, Harry? He's still alive!"

"Yes."

"Is he well? Does he – does he ever say anything – talk about me?"

"Of course. He never says anything about you unless it's praise. He misses you a lot. I can see it in his eyes, even when he tries to hide it and look okay. He -" Harry hesitated before going on, "he was never angry at you for thinking that he was a spy. He'd give anything to have you back."

James choked back a sob. He didn't think he could ever be as understanding or as forgiving as Remus. He didn't deserve to be forgiven that easily for an accusation like that, no matter the reasons.

Harry waited for the question for Sirius, holding his father's hand the whole time. It came.

"What about Sirius? Is he still there?"

Harry looked away for a moment, unable to meet his dad's eyes. "No. He's gone."

James closed his eyes. He had tried to brace himself, to lessen the blow, but still it came hard and painful. The thought of losing both Lily _and_ Sirius was too horrible to handle.

Harry heard James's low, grief-stricken voice ask in a low whisper: "How long?"

Harry tried to look up, tried to give his father any sort of comforting gaze, so he looked up into the hazel eyes with difficulty and said in an emotionless voice: "Three weeks ago."

James gasped. A gasp which halfway turned into a burst of tears.

_"Why? How did it happen?"_

"He – he was trying to protect me." Harry started to explain. His eyes began to burn. "I was – I was being attacked by Death Eaters and then he and other people came to save us and – and –" Harry's voice choked up.

"Who did it?" Harry looked up at hearing the coldness in James's voice. For a moment, he was almost frightened. James's pupils seemed to have shrunk to the size of big full stops.

"His cousin, Bellatrix…"

"I'll _kill_ her! I'll kill her and _every single_ Death Eater I meet – and Voldemort's going down, too." James hissed venomously. His honey-brown eyes seemed to turn a poisonous yellow. Harry had never seen or thought of his father looking so enraged. It seemed hard to imagine it with someone who spent most of his life laughing and playing tricks on people. But there must be another hidden side of James he didn't know about. A side that didn't show often.

"Dad, don't do anything rash!" Harry said suddenly, surprising even himself. He, of all people, was saying that? "Please don't do anything like that. I want you with me. You still have me. We'll get through this together, and we'll have Remus and my friends, too."

James looked at him. His expression softened, and he started to stroke Harry's face again. Harry smiled at him, and he found himself smiling back.

"I've lost so much Dad. I've been…I've seen horrible things. But you know what keeps me going? I still have people I care for. People I love. And even the people I had lost I will be able to see again someday." Harry remembered a sentence Dumbledore had once told him years ago: "I've been told that death is but the next great adventure."

James smile didn't falter. In fact, it grew wider. He understood. Harry was reminding him that the world wasn't as horrible as it seemed sometimes. He was reminding him that death was only another path, and that made it fine.

---------------

James walked into the bar, disguised and all, trying to act normal. He ordered some eggs, toast, jam and lemon juice for Harry and himself. He was feeling a little better, and felt like he could actually be able to keep some breakfast down without crumbling for a little while.

Harry said he'd be down with him in a few minutes. He was showering and changing, then they'd decide together on how to contact the Order of the Phoenix, reaching the conclusion that they had no other alternative. No safe place to go and no person to trust that wasn't an Order member.

Tom shuffled over with the breakfast tray and toothless grin. James thanked him, and Tom shyly asked him if he could really have his torn red robes.

"..Dear man -" James caught his tongue just in time before he said 'Tom'. "They're in a disgusting condition. You won't be able to use them even if you _scourgified _them several times."

"They won't be a problem!" Tom insisted happily, "We've taken rags that were covered in hippogriff dung for years! Their trainers used to use them to wipe their – um – well, you get it, don't you? We've got super _scourgifying_ methods! We've dealt with filth worse than some dust and mud!"

_It isn't just some dust and mud, toothless bloke. There's mould, blood and some other stuff you'd rather not know._

"I'll – I'll see what I can do. I'll see if I won't use it again." James said, trying not to think that the plate and fork he's using to eat were probably wiped in rags that used to be covered in hippogriff manure hundreds of times. Despite its poor , old appearance, the Leaky Cauldron was a popular inn. Tom got the message and left.

James couldn't help but remember a certain time when he and Lily had come here with some of their friends to do some charity work with the inn for a couple of days. It was one of Lily's best friend's idea (Sissira, the sweet, girly one in the girls' gang according to Lily) and everyone, including James and his friends, were in a good mood at that time and enthusiastically joined in. Remembering Lily's radiant face and flowing, seductive red hair along with her intimate friends' faces made him realize another thing he had lost: Lily's friends were a charming group…well, most of them anyway, and he truly enjoyed their company, despite teasing Lily over them.

And now, two of the five girls he knew were dead. Three he knew nothing of their whereabouts. They were out of the country according to the last of what he knew fifteen years ago, and he didn't know whether they contacted their friends here anytime after he disappeared or not.

The thought of how the war had torn their tight circle and wiped away their trust in one another was a stab of pain to his heart, and for just a moment or two, he felt his mask – his magically transfigured mask – slip. He quickly put it back up in place and started to eat to not rouse any suspicion.

The inn bar wasn't busy. Only a few scattered people and travelers here and there reading or eating. There was a small table a few feet away from James's, but it was half–hidden by shadow and a short pillar with old, peeling posters on it.

James didn't notice it, but a tall, strongly-built man was sitting at that table, looking at him very intently out of the corners of his eyes while he sipped soundlessly on a beer. The image of the ripple washing briefly though James's face then disappearing reflected in his strange, wolf-like eyes. The pupils dilated to reduce the glittery orange-brown of his irises, and a mysterious smile appeared on his lips.

How can a person in disguise not interest him, in times like these?


	8. Dumbledore's Discovery

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know I haven't updated in months. You don't have to tell me I'm a dying turtle, but I've been just feeling slow and depressed because of what's happening in Lebanon and I didn't feel like writing or updating. What's happening there is just awfully sick…

**Reviews:**

_Lilyseyes27, upjumpsun, cutieme012, prongsthewhiteheart, Alina11, robster639, intergalactic smart-ass (emma), parcel, __xK-popvsJ-popx__, utahtoken, Eternal Rhapsody: _Thanks a lot for reviewing my story! You know they push me towards writing more, right? So review again, please!

_KeyKeeper12_: Thank you SO MUCH. I'm glad you appreciate how hard it can be to update quickly, but when I'M reading a story, I get really irritated if the author doesn't update within one month. Well, if _I _can't update within one month, I shouldn't talk about others…anyways, you asked about James's eyes. From the very beginning I meant them honey-colored and I still do. I thought hazel meant (it certainly means so in my country) a very light shade of brown that may resemble the color gold. When I said hazel once and honey the other time, I meant both as the same color. So if hazel really turned out to be somewhat gray with specks of green, I didn't know. I meant honey-colored.

PhoenixOwner: _No, no, no_. Remus comes later, although I wanted him to die coz I don't like him (looks scared of the look she's given). But I won't, so you'll see him.

Here goes!

Chapter 8: _Dumbledore's Discovery_

Leaving his semi-finished breakfast tray on the table, James got up and headed to the men's, around the dark corner of the inn, the door to the bathroom hidden from view by a wall.

He placed his hand on the rusty doorknob when he felt eyes on him. He turned around.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

The man with glittery orange eyes rushed forward to hold James before he crashed loudly to the floor and attracted anyone's attention. Then he slowly laid him down and stood over him, smirking.

"I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to hold it till I'm finished with you." He opened the bathroom door, dragged the immobile James inside and shut it behind them, then locked it.

"Now how about we be honest to each other and tell me who the hell you are?" growled the man. From James's view at floor level, he was tall, even with his legs bent slightly as he towered over him. He had a Yankee American accent and just seemed to emit confidence and absolute fearlessness. "Oh, right…you're immobile." He said evilly. "Well, then…_Transfiguro Reverso_!"

James's borrowed features melted away into his real face and it remained as paralyzed as before. The man stared harder, as if trying to place something.

"You look familiar…" He murmured, but this was no Death Eater, as he had primarily assumed. He was sure of that. He had seen this face somewhere before, not once, but several times, and it was related to something good.

Suddenly the door unlocked. The man whirled his head around, hiding his wand back inside his sleeve. The young man with long bangs and small eyes stopped at the door and stared at the two of them.

"Don't freak, kiddo." The man smiled confidently, coming up with an explanation." My pal here was just showing me somethin'. His wife's really frustrated with the way he – um – plays with her on their little nights of recklessness and he was just showing me the problem."

Harry whipped his wand out." _Liar_! Who the hell are you? Back off of him RIGHT NOW!" he yelled, deliberately wanting to be heard.

In a blink, the man's own wand was out _("Expelliarmus!") _and Harry's wand was in the man's grasp. "You will lower your voice – "he whispered commandingly," – come in and close the door if you don't want this guy here dead before you can even open your trap and call."

Harry glared at him spitefully, his balled fists shaking, but he entered and shut the door behind him.

"_Transfiguro Reverso_!"

Away were gone Harry's pieces of disguise and a face almost identical to James's – save the eyes – appeared.

Realization dawned on the man's face, and the malice and suspicion somewhat withdrew from his expression "Why are you walking around disguising yourself, Potter?"

"What's it to you?" spat Harry. But to his utter bewilderment, the man started to smile.

"My Gosh, I knew I'd meet you one day, but never like _this_!" He looked down at James and saw that he was beginning to regain control over his paralyzed body and was trying to get up. He bent down to help him, but the smile on his face disappeared. He looked from Harry to James and back again.

"Well, I know how _you_ survived Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter, but _how_ did your father?"

"_**Who are you? **What do you care!_ Why don't you explain your pathetic self before you find it in a dementor's arms!"

"Don't bust a ball, kid." The man said then turned to the now upright James "Are you gonna behave like a civilized person while I explain who I am or do I have to paralyze you again?"

James leaned against the stall; his arms crossed and looked disgustedly away. Harry saw the man's lips twitch, trying to smother a smile at James's childish behavior.

"I'll start with this question –" he turned to James again "Do you know Rachel Danseldon?"

James looked at him, surprised "I know Rachel, how do _you_ know her?"

"She's my fiancée."

James stared at him in surprised, attentive silence "She told me a lot about her British friends, and about you and your wife – her best friend – and your son, of course. She showed me lots of photos."

"Where is she?" James whispered.

"In America, of course. She's been living there ever since she left here. Around your wife's final months of pregnancy, she told me. She always spoke of her very highly, but as for you –" he laughed lightly " – she always seemed to enjoy making fun of your faults."

James kept his face somewhat neutral. Harry remained silent, taking in everything that was being said. His mother had a living best friend? Were there others as well?

"My name's Jesse Doomsruff. I wouldn't call myself an Auror, but I take down any followers of Voldemort or any other dark wizard that I can. I have another full-time job. You see, I'm a werewolf – a Brynmawr werewolf to be exact. Brynmawrs are quite different from normal werewolves and we live in only one area in the whole world: our own huge city in underground California. I'm their leader. The Alpha."

Harry started to become aware of the fact that he and his dad were staring open-mouthed at the werewolf in a manner he was sure looked stupid.

"Now surely you know I'm not gonna harm you. Can you tell me, Mr. James Potter, how is it that you're alive when Rachel told me that Voldemort had killed you?"

Harry didn't feel like his father should tell this stranger anything, but James actually answered :" He never killed me. He just put me into a sort of frozen condition so that no one doubts that I had died. He said that when he finishes off my family and friends he'll bring me back to break me and force me to join him. He wants to make use of my powers."

"Hmm..." Jesse stood for a few moments, looking deep in thought. He looked up at James and Harry: "and now you're hiding, because Voldemort is looking for you two?"

Harry nodded.

"Don't you have any older wizards to go to for help? What about this Dumbledore guy? Isn't he supposed to be protecting you?"

James answered before Harry could: "We're afraid that he wouldn't believe it. He could think it all one of Voldemort's appalling tricks. He's probably gonna be using Inferi again, and Dumbledore must be expecting it. Plus all that, we don't really know where he is right now"

Now Harry felt a bit lost. What are these Inferi?

"Well, Dumbledore is the only wizard Voldemort has ever been afraid of, and I think if he believed that you're truly alive (and I know he will when you find him), the rest of the world has to believe it. But now, you need to hide until you decide how you're gonna approach him. I'll help you. So will Rachel."

"How are you going to help us, Mr. Doomsruff?"

"I'm taking you to America with me. You can stay in my city, where you'll be safe and hidden. Rachel can come and stay with you."

Albus Dumbledore walked into the inn, followed by a beaming, saluting Tom. He sat at an empty table and Tom asked if he needed anything.

"Not really, Tom, my friend. I am here on an emergency. Can you swear to keep a secret?"

"Absolutely, sir. You know me!"

He sighed tiredly. "Harry Potter is missing. Again." Tom gasped quietly. Dumbledore continued, looking worried. "I've been looking for him for hours. He's been missing since last night. Don't you know if anybody at all saw him?"

"No, sir. I'm sure someone would have said something had they seen him! This is no time to go out for midnight walks! Do…do you think he could have been…been _kidnapped_?"

"I pray to God not, dear Tom. All I know is that he left on the Knight Bus last night and landed a long way away from his home. As soon as I found out, I tried to board the Bus as well – with some of my loyal friends with me…and what a surprise it was – Death Eaters hijacking the Bus!"

"Lord!"

"The situation would have actually looked funny if it weren't so serious. A spy must have tipped them off about Harry's disappearance. The conductor Shunpike was out cold and injured. They were threatening Ernie the driver, at wandpoint, to take them to where Harry had left the Bus. He drove as fast the vehicle could go to the Ministry of Magic, where he swore he dropped Harry."

"And then?" breathed Tom, clutching the red-and-gold rag in his hand and starting to wipe a goblet to have something to do with his hands.

"Mayhem, Tom. Us and the Death Eaters fought until both sides lost a member." Dumbledore shook his head sadly "Emmeline Vance. She fought very bravely and took down a Death Eater with her.

"When we found out that Harry was _not_ at the Ministry as we all initially believed, it was Lord Voldemort who had found out first. Enraged, he was. But this is what scares me, Tom. He appeared from his search and fled without fighting at all as soon as he found out Harry wasn't there…to try and get to him before us. That is why I have to find him. And you have to help me, Tom. Put up Missing posters and tell your people to keep their eyes peeled and whoever catches sight of Harry should immediately contact Hogwarts. Someone will be there to come collect him in moments."

"Yes, sir! I'll get to it right away. But as you're here, you should drink something quickly. You're pale and thirsty – it'lll knock some energy into you."

"Fine, then. Just get me a glass of lemonade, dear Tom."

"Right away, sir." He left the rag and the goblet on the table and rushed to get the lemonade jug. Dumbledore looked down at it, unconcerned at first, and then noticed it for the first time.

He picked it up and stared hard at it, not daring to believe his eyes. He looked at the familiar gold and red colors of the expensive but now-worn fabric and tried to convince himself that it was just another one of Tom's rags, but a horrible suspicion insisted on growing and blooming in his head.

"Tom, from where did you get this good-looking rag?" he asked innocently as Tom came back a few moments later with the lemonade jug.

"Oh, this? Earlier this morning, two young men checked in. Two brothers. They've been attacked by muggers or robbers, something like that. The older brother was beaten up worse and his clothes were torn, so I asked if I could have them afterwards. A few minutes ago, the younger brother came down and gave me the robes. He warned me that it's gonna be mighty difficult to clean them, and God, was that right! The smell of the robes was awful, but it came out in the end."

"Really? Where are they, Tom? I want to ask them if they saw anything suspicious."

"They are in the men's, sir." And he pointed, even though Dumbledore knew well where it was.

"Good. I will be right back." He got up and swept off to the bathroom. His heart pounded. He knew Voldemort was behind whatever thing he had done to lure Harry out of his uncle's house, and whatever gruesome trick he'd used, he was sure these two 'brothers' had something to do with it.

-

As soon as they heard faint nearing footsteps, Jesse grabbed both Potters and pulled them into the nearest stall and locked the door.

"_What do we do now!_"

"_Here, let me Transfigure us!_"

Harry heard the scuffling of feet behind the other faint ones and heard Tom's anxious voice say: "Mr. Dumbledore, do you–" the voice suddenly stopped. Harry heard the words very muffled and unclear, but thinking he heard Dumbledore's name made his heart pound audibly.

"_It's Dumbledore! You have to get out of here!_"

"_How?_"

Jesse answered that. "_Duh! Apparate outta here! C'mon, Apparate to the rooftop of the building opposite this stupid inn_."

"_Go now!_ _I'll explain to him! I'll make him believe!_"Harry urged him when James looked uncertain.

"But! –"

They heard the bathroom door open. Jesse grabbed James's arm and focused. In a second, there was a popping sound and they were gone, although Harry could almost swear he heard an echo of James's: "What the hell do you –"

"Alohomora."

The stall door opened to reveal a staring Dumbledore and a cringing Harry crouching on the toilet.


	9. Truth and Illusion

Thank you all SO much for your reviews! I'm sorry it's been more than a YEAR since I last updated, but believe me – you don't know what I've been through.

Anyway, I never forgot this story so here I am finally posting a new chapter XD. Don't forget to review since it's my life supply in this cold, cruel academic world that I live in!

As for your question, KeyKeeper12, James's eyes are gold. That's what I meant since the beginning, but I thought that hazel meant 'very pale brown'. Maybe it doesn't, though ;P.

Chapter 9: _Truth and Illusion_

**Some building opposite the Leaky Cauldron – Some house in America (James must feel like a lost child now!)**

James suddenly found himself on the filthy rooftop of the building on the right side of the Leaky Cauldron, his arm still in Jesse's strong grasp.

"Let go of me! Why the hell did you Apparate?!"

"SSHHHH! Keep it down, will ya?!"

"What did you just do?! We can't just leave my son behind!" He yanked his arm out of the werewolf's grasp, but Jesse quickly kept his hold firm.

"He's not in danger, Mr. Potter! _You_ are. YOU have to go hide until we can figure out when it's safe for you to resurface. Don't do something stupid and get yourself hurt when you've just reunited with the only family member you have!" James stopped his fighting against the taller, more muscular man and looked at him angrily, about to curse right before Jesse spoke again. "Your son will be fine under Dumbledore's protection. He'll find a way to prove to him the truth about you. If he doesn't…_I'll_ find a way. I'm not the youngest Alpha ever chosen by my people because of my looks."

James didn't know how that was supposed to reassure him. He didn't even know this guy.

"Right now, we're going to Rachel where you're gonna stay until we can figure out how to help your son make the people he's with – whoever they are – believe him."

"How very thoughtful of you," James said sarcastically "Why do you even want to help us?"

Jesse looked at him as if he initially thought it was a trick question: "_Huh_? Because you're my fiancee's best friend's husband! You're the father of The Boy Who Lived! And I'm not one to leave people be killed when I can help it. Besides," he finished with a proud, nostalgic grin "Rachel would turn me into a werewolf-skin rug if she knew I met you and didn't bother bring you over." He sighed happily, as if the thought of Rachel skinning him was attractive in a way.

James looked at him hard, hating the fact that he couldn't make a decision! He kept thinking: '_Harry's in there right now being interrogated by Dumbledore!'_ And he knew how determined for information that loony old man can be.

"Come on, James, it's not like Dumbledore's gonna hurt him! He's probably too relieved to find him alive to actually punish him!"

But James knew better, and he hated the way the Headmaster kept doing things he believed were for good and then ending up ruining everybody's life, and what James hated most was when the old wizard apologized. James had always wanted to beat the living crap out of him every time he showed remorse, but for some stupid reason would refrain himself at Dumbledore's teary eyes. Those eyes made him angriest.

Without warning, James felt as if he'd left his stomach behind. He and the guy named Jesse were rotating very fast, everything passed around them in meaningless but colourful blurs.

"Wait!" James shouted, outraged: "I didn't say –!"

In a few seconds, everything stopped and he reflexively adjusted his landing to be on his feet and not face-first into soil and grass. Jesse landed beside him, only it looked like he pounced on the ground. They arrived to a house's front yard somewhere in the world.

"YOU IDIOT!" James shouted. He grabbed the front of the werewolf's shirt and pulled him roughly to his face: "Who TOLD you to Apparate again?! I thought I told you I'm not leaving Harry behind, and no, I DON'T want him with Dumbledore!!" he roared when Jesse opened his mouth. "Stupid idiot!" and he pushed Jesse hard.

Jesse looked unfazed for someone who looked like he was about to be trampled, and when he was pushed he did not fall over, "You really _are_ as arrogant and stubborn as Rachel says you are!"

"You…"

The house's back door was thrown open, and a woman with thick, black hair and pale, icy-blue eyes stepped out angrily. At first glance, she looked ready for a bloody fight and looked like she would enjoy it.

James turned around and stared at the woman he could never understand what Lily saw in her or how they had such a special connection. They were as different as night and day.

Her ice-blue eyes zeroed on him, and her face betrayed her feelings of shock and disbelief. She looked at first as though she'll scream, but before either James or Jesse could move, her hands had disappeared for less than a second into her clothes and out they had come again. About four magical knives were flung – seemingly out of thin air – towards James.

His body automatically responded to the attack and evaded them, but he ended up in the position he was trying to avoid before: his face in the dewy soil and grass.

"CRAZY BITCH!!" he screamed at her as he jumped back up, "Idiot! What am I, a shooting board?! Which hell did you escape from?!"

She smirked and looked at him with a thoughtful – and still surprised – expression on her strong face, "I see you in front of me, Potter, but I can't believe it." she walked up to him until they were only a few inches apart, eye to eye, nose to nose.

James looked at her, clearly irritated, and then jumped back when she roared, "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN FOR THE PAST 15 YEARS, YOU IRRESPPONSIBLE DIMWIT!?"

**The Burrow**

Dumbledore looked at Harry over his half-moon spectacles for a moment, looking tired. Harry almost felt bad for worrying him, but ever since Dumbledore found him trying to look innocent in the toilet back at the Leaky Cauldron, the old man kept trying to get answers out of him, and Harry stubbornly kept his mouth shut until he could think of how to lay down the bomb.

They had Apparated to the grounds outside the Weasleys' home right out of the Leaky Cauldron's toilets, and slowly made their way towards the crooked house.

"Harry, please tell me why you thought it was alright to 'take a stroll' outside at night, alone and unprotected."

"I felt strangled," came Harry's stubborn reply "I felt like I was suffocating inside the house, so I went out."

"Harry why don't you tell me the truth?"

"You never want to hear it." Harry replied coldly at first, then burst out angrily, "What are you talking about? I'm _always_ telling you the truth, but you never believe it, do you? What difference does it make if I tell you now?! You'll just think I'm hallucinating again, just living in another stupid figment of my imagination!"

"I never thought that", Dumbledore said quietly, sounding sad, "I just didn't want Voldemort to find a hole to leap through in our relationship, Harry. You know that."

"No, I _don't_." he was being stupid, and he knew it.

"How about you tell me what happened this time, if I promise I will believe you?"

"And afterwards go make plans with everybody else except me as soon as I turn my back." Harry said bitterly.

"Won't happen."

"I _want_ to tell you what happened! But I don't know what you'll do if I did. You won't believe me – nobody will...not after…not after Sirius…"

They reached the front door, and before Dumbledore could answer, the door was slammed open and a pale, frightened Mrs. Weasley lunged out and half-carried Harry off the ground in a hug.

"_Harry_! _Oh my God, thank you God! Thank God you're alright_!" a couple of fat tears ran down her cheeks, making Harry hate himself for feeling guilty.

"Harry, why did you run off like that? I thought at first – I _thought_ -!"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley. Please don't worry about me." Harry said, and with that, he was dragged into the house with Dumbledore following after, closing the door and replacing the Shielding Charms.

As soon as Harry entered the kitchen, he was greeted with half a dozen "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN??!!" and a split-second late one, "WHEER Z HELL HAF YOO BEEEN, 'ARRY??!!", then bushy hair filled his vision. Hermoine was in front of him.

"_What were you thinking – scaring the hell out of us like that_?!" She shrieked into his bewildered face, her eyes over bright.

"Don't give us that look, Harry!" Ron said angrily, turning him around by the arm to face him, "You scared the living daylights out of EVERYONE! We thought you were kidnapped – we thought the Protection Charms had been breached or something – but _noo_. You decided to call the Knight Bus into your home and take a night tour around London!"

"What is it with you people?" Harry said in a low voice, too furious to speak normally, "You think I went out on a suicide trip? You think I like making everyone worry about me? Or do you think I get a kick out of being on _every_ channel of _every_ radio in the Wizarding World? You think I enjoy the attention?!" he looked furiously at Ron.

"No – wh – that's not what I said at all! I – "

"Oh really? Really? Then what were you saying JUST NOW?!" he yelled.

Everyone remained silent. Then a soft voice spoke, "He didn't mean it that literally, Harry." Ginny said, "We were all really worried about you."

"Yeah? Well, next time don't bother!"

"Harry." Harry felt a hand land on his shoulder. He turned around to face Mr. Weasley.

"Look. I know that we sometimes don't take the things you tell us seriously enough, but that isn't because we don't trust you! And you know that. It's because there's a possibility that – that You-Know-Who can use you as a puppet to speak to us!"

Mrs. Weasley looked at her husband unhappily. Everyone at the table did the same. It seemed pretty clear to Harry that they didn't want him to be told that.

Fleur looked disturbed at first, but surprised everyone by saying, "'Arry eesn't z type of paerson to geeve up so easily! Eef 'Arry eez being possessed, we'll all know. _He_ can't pretend to bee 'Arry. 'Arry eez too kind."

Everybody stared at her, stunned that _Miss Fleur Delacour_ would make such a…deep statement. Harry felt a rush of appreciation towards her.

"Eet haz never happened bee fore, haz eet?"

"No." Ginny answered simply.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head as if to get herself out of a weird dream where Fleur has something sensible to say.

"See, Harry," Dumbledore finally spoke again, "Everyone is ready to listen to what you have to say. Let's all sit down, have a nice breakfast seeing as it is still early, and listen to your story. I'm sure it will be exciting."

"Yes! Yes, you sit down Harry," Mrs. Weasley pushed him down into an empty seat and went to the counter to prepare breakfast for two more.

Dumbledore seated himself across from Harry. Ron and Hermione sat on either side of their friend.

Looking around at everybody seated at the table, Harry noticed that their breakfasts were nearly untouched. Harry couldn't help but feel more peaceful, seated amidst them. They were all shouting at him just now, but before he came in they were all too worried about him to even eat.

**Rachel Danseldon's House**

Rachel stood with her back to James, looking at the photos she had all over the mantel, lost in her thoughts. Her face softened at a picture of all five of them girls in their dormitory, including Lily and herself, laughing for the camera and blushing in their graduation robes before they leave for the feast.

"Alright. I've decided I believe you."

"Gee, thanks." came the sarcastic reply from behind her.

Rachel remained silent for a moment, and then said something James never heard her say before, "I'm sorry."

James stared at her, stunned.

"I'm sorry for making you tell me this story, for making you relive it again, but I had to be sure."

James couldn't blame her. He was just glad someone else besides Harry – and Voldemort – knew he existed on the planet "It's alright."

"So," when she turned to face him, her face was as mean and her expression was as forever-sarcastic as he ever remembered it to be, "What are we gonna do now?" she answered her own question "I'm contacting Dumbledore, and the old fart better believe me or I swear I'll set his beard on fire like I did back in school."

_She hasn't changed one bit._

But James was glad she didn't, despite the fact that they were always at each other's throats, ever since they were in school. She was about the only girl in school he ever bothered to reckon with, because she had spunk like nothing he'd ever seen before - the girl who constantly believed (and seemingly still does) that nothing bad can ever happen to her. She and Lily became best friends as soon as they met in first year, and the raven-haired girl rubbed off on Lily pretty fast, to his dismay. But then again, Lily rubbed off on her as well.

They were so different, but had a special connection he couldn't fully understand. Watching her now, and irritated that he actually missed her, he wondered: thinking back to all those times when she nearly died, but came back to them as if nothing's wrong, he wondered whether her _absolute_ belief that she will NOT be defeated by anybody was actually what kept her alive through all those battles.

"You'll stay here with me until you get yourself together then we meet the old man." she went on in her clipped, confident voice, sitting opposite him, "and I wanna meet Harry, too. I've only ever seen pictures of him…"

Jesse, who'd been mostly silent throughout Rachel's 'interrogation', stood up.

"Okay. I'll be going now. I've got to meet with a bunch of other werewolves from other countries."

Rachel turned to him,"Why?"

"It's kind of like a meeting between prominent leaders of underground werewolf groups on how to improve their living standards wherever they live and all. There's probably gonna be talk about Voldemort as well. Greyback from Britian's gonna be there, so besides listening to whatever he'll be saying about Voldemort, I have to go just to creep myself out at how gross he looks."

"Have fun!" Rachel said as he practically pounced out the window and ran off.

James smiled a little through his depression from the couch he was curled up on. Sometimes he really believed Rachel thought she lives in one of those Muggle video games, where you always have another chance to beat the enemy.


End file.
